Elucidating Questions

It’s hard to get going because everything always has to start out of the mind

Closed tightly away, how much to say, what to say,

And in the end there’s no feeling of accomplishment only

Words no one will ever see tucked away in a memory

I wonder how many thousands of words I’ve written

That don’t have any meaning besides a letter.

It just means that for all I’ve learnt I still start and end the day as nobody.

Not so much a sobering thought as a bewildering one.

I don’t know if anyone I know knows what I’m about.

I don’t know why I can’t connect like everyone else,

But it’s a slow start that leads to something,

I guess.

The place where I’m standing still looks the same as the place where I started.

Nothing really went according to plan.

Important elsewheres to be, but I’m not.

I still wonder if he’s okay,

I just have to try harder not to cry out when it hurts.