Sufficient wisdom

 
 
Bit drunk perhaps.
When I wonder why the world can’t always comprise
Golden leaves and warm wind
That offer soft suggestion.

But the underlying crust is hard.
And I always move in too wide an arc.

So I crash and splinter,
Shards spread wide,
Each a dissipation of my potential.

And so wide spread thin
I shrivel,
Unable to think
With sufficient wisdom.
 
 

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