My make-believe world pulsates,
It breathes and lives;
A fiery inquisitiveness runs
Through its pores and veins,
Not to be left behind
It wants to know as much as I know.
Put together by brilliant brains,
My make-believe world dominates my psyche,
Titillates my senses and thoughts,
It makes me wonder
And revise my competence.
As I stepped into my 79th year
I lost everything I nurtured and valued,
I lost my voice,
I lost my ability to recollect,
To weave dreams, to doubt and find
Stray nuances in the sounds I heard.
Tuesday, April 6, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: reasoning