Here’s the second one. Which is actually, the first one I wrote.
What can I do about this nagging feeling
Of something within that keeps hitting the ceiling
Of my heart and consumes my mind
What can I do?
I can’t share it with the world
Or maybe I can with spoken word
That you and even I may know what it is
That tumbles and twirls my soul
Discontent! And Contempt
For him, and her and you
Am aware of my potential
Yet I fear that It may never be harnessed
And become Kinetic
What can a man know unless he is told?
What can a man see unless he is shown?
Who can know a man unless what you see when he is cold
Or can you know? No empirical evidence. Nothing
And feel it in
A raging fire that burns and burns and burns
Till you are soot and ash
And then you ask
What am I? Who am I? Am I
At all or is it all just imagination?
Einstein said: ‘Imagination is much more important than knowledge”
Do I Agree?
I don’t know. You can imagine my discontent.
So many questions with answers, I don’t know
Do I even need to know? I don’t know
These are just my musings
A mere confused ant, in the grand scheme of things.
-Ms Johnson. Xxx