Wednesday, April 6, 2016

the collapse (very old poem, ca. 2011; maybe even 2008/2009)

The collapse

I threw myself, hurtling, out of the dark cave
Where I had been hiding, imagining flights
And asking questions about a strange world.

There outside the cave, I found a set of books
Each striving to fill my brain, to prevent
Any other book from reaching in.
But I wouldn't have it.  I kept them all out.
I kept their knowledge where it was, and
I opened them when I needed to.

And what seemed like hours became days,
And what seemed like days became months.
As I became filled with the knowledge
Of what each book could tell me
And of nothing else.

One day, I grew bored of the books
And descended back into the cave.

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