Unsteady

I can’t shake
The ceaseless swaying
Which prevents my days
From meaning

But inspires
This reeling body
To fight
By standing still

And answering
Riddles with verse,

These unsolved ills
Now spoken,

That become my lines
Redacted
With a fear
Soon censoring souls

Through dizziness
Capturing ways
Such honest words
Feel dangerous

When weighing on minds
Left spinning –

So disturbed
Yet oddly content

While orbiting
Every last dream
Ruined where lives
Fake purpose

Around their hopes
Revolving,

Forgetting how needs
Will whirl.

  • J. Pigno

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