The Weight of Life
The weight...
Or the wait?
No, the weight.
The heft that cannot be left.
All that you think when you see something.
The internal context that commits theft.
All that comes with when you think something.
Knowledge sets you free,
only if you don't understand it.
Understanding never lets you be,
If you are serious about it.
Context acts like a cage,
Bars made out of connections.
Or like the set on a stage,
Limiting the plot and characters' directions.
But that is reality's twist,
As long as we want or insist
On giving life significance and meaning.
Isn't seeing it any other way just dreaming?
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