I found a universe one day,
A scum filled bucket by the bay.
In that murky water I saw,
Stars countless, galaxies more.
And then I stared at the wast waves,
The blowing wind, a thousand score,
Of such universes fluttering by.
Are we just scum?
Dust floating inside,
Some insignificant nook,
In a significant life.
Perhaps a dusty book,
Fiction from some mind.
Or maybe this is all just mine,
An overthinking snob's anxious plight.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoesíaSecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
