When she goes, she comes,
But no one ever knows when she comes and goes.
Hiding, but in plain site, sometimes even underneath bright lights,
You only refuse to see.
She chooses no side, not men, nor women,
And so every time you take, from you, she gives.
You think you outwit, but you are the most beat,
And you can’t see defeat.
You plead and plead “why you?”
She only return favors.
You see her over and over,
But never with the same face.
She goes, she comes,
When she comes, she goes
in my mind
A character in this reality, each of us is a character in each episode. Everyone else is watching in another reality. Who is to say what is known? What if all that is known is just perceived? Everything we know is almost everything that we have been told. If our ancestors figured their own truths, why are we not looking for our own?
-in my mind