Consciousness

A poem written in a time of inquiry about how others may feel the same as I.

In the morning I awake
but am I really?
fumbling blindly in the dark
no light switch
no recollection of why I'm here
where I've been
how I should be
sheer blankness exemplifies
my entire being

thus, I ask myself:
how many other pair of eyes
have I gazed into being unaware
of this similar uncertainty
we share in our quivering hearts?