1976-10-26


         Walking blind, except when I'm fooling myself.
         I know too much, think too much
         and in the steady erosion of my ignorance,
         I perish and cry out; dust to dust.

         I'm nothing more than what I am not.
         I'm nothing more than the choices I've made.
         I'm nothing more than a question constantly asked.

         And I try, like original sin, to answer.
         I'm an aching void when my knowing leaves me
         confronting the unknown without
         as blind as a baby reborn.

                                    gallagher
                                    26 Oct 76

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

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