walking the edge
why does everybody know so much
i don't know anything
my brain is mush tears are gushing out, sputtering in all kind of directions
a swamp into which i willingfully sink offering my flesh to the mosquitos once again
why does everybody think so much
i can hear the echo of foot prints in the emtpy hallways of my mind
i think too much and too arbitrarily, letting my heart take me onto a rollercoster
too wild for me this swirling, caleidoscope of things
walking the edge
why does everybody know so much
i don't know anything
but that i feel like don quijote fighting wind mills tonight
and every other night i stand guard trying to defend a treasure
of immeasurable gold
defending the purity of a well
that may well have dried out
ever since
is it really that much asked for?
why am i doing?
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