watching nothing happen,
disappointed...
not just myself to blame
and then again blame is just a game.
responsibility...
something that's eluded me.
those who trust me and those i trust
out of balance; uncountable.
circles i turn in isolation,
victim of unwritten crimes,
victim, too, of my own mind.
circles i turn, afraid to break the mold.
terrified of all the truths i've never been told,
still, the lies i tell myself unwittingly-
they compound my problem,
digging me deeper,
as the world shovels it on
and people, an enigma...
all love and hate and hope and fear and compassion
like myself.
