Cognition Poem by Scott J. Shepard

These things that belong to me,
sadness running deep
puddles the floor,

thousands flood;
extract my tears to test tubes
screen for weakness,
only to recreate madness
molded from the tough clay.

My happiness, a quote no one can read,
not even me, but its depth expands
the galaxy, planet to sun.

Then love, yet to be discovered,
I scan for answers-
learn of birds, how to make potions,
beads finley suited for string.

The future, Oh tabula rasa,
there's no escaping this.
It will fit finely here while I pray
all my wishes someday
come true.

And of course my soul,
the strongest muscle of them all.
I'll exercise it daily, in every philosophy
my road may come across.

Then, theres you.
How I yearn for us to belong, with
all these things in constant flow,
added, never subtracted,
we begin to become whole.