Our minds are two parallel lines drawn from left to right,
right to left, any deviation
makes the blood under our thin skins boil.
We havent thought of the triangles, and the circles,
the rectangles and the vast sky with no lines.
Our minds have become two parallel lines, any deviation
making our blood under our thin skins boil.
The circles that make up the chains we see not,
because criminals we are each of us,
hard not to be one
to keep the lines from the minds we have,
the words we speak
and the unknown we cannot touch.
These lines creeping in our
windows and doors,
curtains and clothes,
eyes and ears,
hearts and souls.
Demons we have each of us,
to let go must look at it first,
eye to eye
word to word,
and say goodbye.
Patience it takes to convert these parallel lines
into sharp triangles, and smooth circles.
Courage it takes to look at them,
to admit their existence.
Our minds are two parallel lines,
running from left to right and right to left,
any deviation makes the blood under these thin skins boil.
Two parallel lines, thats what we’ve become,
wont you stretch a little side by side?
Think think think. About these parallel lines.
2 replies on “Two Parallel Lines”
one side of my mind is certainly stronger than the other. Math escapes me. I draw in geometrics. But I write in circles and loops and leaps. I hang out in that side of the brain and it has lines going everywhere. But your poem made me think and that is what’s most important.
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thank you for dropping by! i am glad that this little poem made you think.