Poetry

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Understanding the point to understand really makes no sense in my book. Waiting on the edge of reason for years all to find out that all reasoning and understanding got you no where in life except right back at point where you were born. The point at which you took your first inhale of life and exhale of blankness... The first point where you understood that drawing on the wall wasn't going to make your mother smile... The point at which you stole your first kiss & realized it didn't taste much like chocolate. It was at these points where your understanding truly took form; at these marks in history when you began to realize that their has to be more then this... More then just stolen love & false hopes, more then hateful families & unthoughtful friends, more then smiles filled with hooks & laughs filled with arrows... no no no... Their has to be so much more... much more... but where? The grass & trees; the bears & bees... they know what it is... but we can't seem to grasp it, why? With our understanding & reasons clouding our frontsteps... no wonder we think that their is no God...

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