If ever I think to doubt my place in the world,
Look ahead and see nothing, staring, blank.
Questions ruminating, festering,
Propagating through synapses long overused and overexerted,
Past the point reality, where I float,
Above myself, feet dangling,
And nothing really feels real anymore,
Purpose becomes purposeless, lifeless, endless.
At the end of my thin rope, grasping,
Fading to black, curtain almost closed,
Ready to take my bow,
to hear some type of applause, anything, anything…
I hope to look back at you,
And realize,
You were all the evidence I ever needed
To know my life had, has, meaning.
~Written by: Virgenal Owens
One response to “Evidence”
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This poems speaks volumes; And I know without a doubt that your life has meaning!!!
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