Loosing Ground

Rabbit holes are often the best stops,

Chaotic as things get around superstition,

Distraction in pleasures’ direction,

Let your understanding experience flops,

Arrogance pokers through rumble,

Finding humility an absolute bore,

Then grinding through every chore,

Missing discipline calls as trouble,

So the constant deep dives are comforting,

The chase into nothingness for a new,

A high, a rush, a hit, a trip, the view,

Any sight of canoes for escaping,

But you taste the burn of memory,

Every cell remembers this dance,

Every shuffle, every last prance,

Soul scarring, flesh marking foolery,

Ego got the biggest hit, a punch to the gut,

So the chimp learnt to joy of practice,

The man lived through the trite,

And the computer revived from the rut…


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