top of page

Too Many Variables

The past is in clouds

History is in the stars

Those great wars

They’re in the soil

Understanding is in the air

We know it

But we don’t

It’s a fading dream

It’s faith

It repeats and rhymes

And only after time

Can we look at it.

We cannot understand the future

By learning about the past

We drown in the present

Kicking our legs

Just to stay afloat


How could we grasp the future?

There’s too many variables

Too many paths

Somehow

It’ll all repeat

But somehow

It’ll be in a way we won’t see coming


And it’s already upon us.


-C.H.


 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Choosing Myself

If I choose myself, If I really choose myself, Then I am choosing the me that loves you; Because I do love you. So how can I choose myself and not love you? It is the ‘I’ that loves you—the ‘me’. ‘The

 
 
 
The 12th Grape

The 12th grape. This lady just asked for my 12th grape I’m pretty sure that’s December . . . But, she’s cute, And I either hooked up with her or her twin sister a few years ago, And we are under a tab

 
 
 
The Soil To Grow

The Blackbird has to learn that intimacy isn’t a threat; that being close doesn’t mean losing herself. She must learn to set boundaries

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

©2021 by Clintwritingshit. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page