The Idea-smithy

2 October 2004

Sometimes life comes at you
like a thousand asteroids rocketing through space
And hits you,
one at a time and then more and more and more

Till the reality sinks in
That there is no planet, no sun or galaxy

All there is, is the vast, still brooding space
That you are.

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Tags: Introspection, Poetry
Posted in Idea ore, Ideahenge, Mercurial mirror, Waxing eloquent | Comments (5)