Mist

poem by: John Prophet
Written on Sep 24, 2020 

Walking
thru a
hazy mist.
Incomplete 
 vision of
things I 
see. Mere
shadows 
of underlying 
reality.
Constituted 
thus, missing 
most of 
what is.
Spinning.
Spinning 
thru a
make believe.
Living in a
foggy dream.
Looking for
meaning,
understanding 
of what 
this be. 
None seems
evident.
None to
be found.
Spinning!
Like hamsters
in a wheel
spinning 
furiously.
Going
nowhere.
Alas,
such is
the state
of things.

 

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