Race around in circles,

trying to understand;

let paths become a labyrinth

and thoughts to chicken soup.

Watch the God that you admired

melt to ashes in your hands.

Catch a teardrop on your finger

and watch a waterfall burst forth.


Try to fit the angel

on the devil’s face before you,

try to force the memory

on a day that buds anew.


Tell yourself that though

this time you did not win,

you carried the Honor of trying,

and although it doesn’t feel like it,

you really aren’t dying.

So, follow the paths to nowhere

if you must,

and enter the labyrinth

to be lost;

but leave a trail of breadcrumbs

at all costs.


Because one day when the

wondering is done,

and the pain has gone away,

you’ll absolutely want to try

to come back home again.

New York, NY
June, 2015

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