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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1122430
A muse on delusion


Delusion

Everything has a beginning,
an original place to start;
but no one seems to be winning,
just acting and playing a part.

We're wanderers in the confusion,
searching for truth and heart.
Trying hard to live the delusion,
mere shoppers pushing a cart.

We never stop and take the time
to feel the love and devotion.
We are players caught in a mime,
silently filled with emotion.

The question asked, we are wondering,
where do we go from here?
What happened to loving and caring,
far away but so very near?


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