Existence…

We all do exist, don’t we?

I mean if I don’t exist, how am I writing this?

And if you don’t exist, how can you comment or even review?

But I keep getting reviews and comments, but maybe I am giving them to myself?

If we do exist how do you and I for that matter, know this?

If we don’t, then who is there to tell us, as we are all non-existent?

Straining to be noticed in a world of non-existence, we all do so to some extent,

Maybe I herein be kind of unintelligent, as even my dog knows he does exist,

Probably caused by my herb so dear, I keep it with me always, quite near…

A psychological philosophy of just one, this poem, this treatise, this story regarding some,

Will I learn from this write, of my own personal blight?

Or will I find myself still asking questions in future nights, under a light?

I started this bit of poetry last night, under the lights, high as a kite,

And now finish it when sober, without lights, as the sun is quite bright,

The time, it has arrived for me to pick up my pay, to end this poem in the right way,

But which way is that, if we do not exist, then I can end this here,

Yes right in the midst of a secondary thought, I must insist I cannot recall,

So please, when reading this and it ends on this line, please don’t get yourself pissed…

                     © ed – 5/15/04