we ask ourselves questions
the answers can be simplistic
the answers can be monumental
this is the nature of thought
Terence George Craddock (Afterglows Echoes Of Starlight)
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, we place ourselves under the mill-wheel of thought; we keep gnawing at the bread of ourselves. The self is evidently a process and needs to be iterated constantly.