Do I seem gloomy? Preoccupied
with visceral mind? Ineloquent
by design? Is it abnormal
to question all that comes before my eyes?

Should I level unbalanced head?
Plug my ears to voice within,
and shut my eyes to freedom-flight
of intellect not quite understood?

I ail because I am me, unique
in the way I see, bothersome at times,
but I don’t mind, perceptions depth
injects its breath into accumulated
reactions to environments of life.

Could I, if I was inclined, change
the temperamental nature of my beast?
Would I cease to feast and feel
and be devoured by abstract ideals?

Sanguineness has never been
a forte of mine. Shakily,
I laugh at myself, questions
about questioning stuck in my mind.

Do I ail?

Erin Moen
11/15/03
Copyright 2003 ©

Thanks, Eileen, for giving me the idea for this piece! :)