A twisted little flow poem about some important questions that I'm sure many of us share. |
-What You Think It Outta Be- by Keaton Foster You There First To the right Second To the left Look around If you are alone Then I mean you If not Then I am being Very specific This poem Me You And all of us And none of us Are rushing Headlong Into the fire We, me, you Here Atop the spire Way below Ground zero Postulation Length Distance Will you survive Such a fall If so Will you become A quasi hero Or authentic material The real shiznit Do you even care Would you dare Will you try All along Asking why Is there an answer One you’ll accept One you’ll respect Something offering An ability to live with Will what is said Lead to other questions Or just more answers Does it all matter If so Why If not How come Is there a God Is there a Devil Are they opposites Are they the same Friends Bitter enemies What are they after Will they get it If so What does That mean for you What does That mean for me Is this life What you think It outta be Or is it Something else Something different Rather repugnant Are my questions Important Or impotent I’m a poet And I know it I’m a writer A seeker of answers I promise nothing And fight to deliver Everything Before I asked you I have always Asked myself Is this life What you Think it outta be The answer With regard to me Is And will always be No Not exactly Simple So it seems I wish More than I could That was the case But it’s not Nor will it ever be I am lacking I am failing I may be up here Atop the spire But I Unlike you Am too afraid to move Too afraid to look down I am unwilling to ask And having no desire To really know… What You Think It Outta Be Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |