1 Jun 2006


There is randomness, however much
science and prophecy collide and end up
predicting that nothing changes.
Pain will come at odd times, happenstance
the antidream invades, without
asking any questions, making no excuses.
Hearts break and you are left to imagine
horrible things, like how it could have
all turned out better, that somehow.
Good things happen too, but usually,
when no one reminds you, they easily
slip from the grasp of any term memory.
And people still imagine love will
save them, as if it wasn’t in the Plan
to have put you there in the first place.
I pause, and I consider that all things
sit there and change without knowing it,
stand up and they’re suddenly old.
I myself am old, have lived a couple
lifetimes, I reckon, none of them
could I truly say they were mine.
There is randomness, however much
everything makes sense: yes, even if
the doom has come, final and certain.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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