Deep Down - Poem by Anthony Weir
most of us are desperately superficial.
How can we think our way out of problems
when our problems arise from
the fact that we think?
(How do I fit the square peg of my
self-importance into the round
hole of my sense of futility, renouncing
both sadness and self?)
Time is god, is love
is sightless, dumb
and tells us only
that we are noise.
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