Spin

poem by: E.J. Waling
Written on Apr 19, 2020 

Through this
realm
we do pass.
Journey of
uncertainty
it be.
Journey
fraught
with peril,
instinct.
Animal instinct
dictate,
guide the
way.
Programmed
to preform.
Perform
as designed.
Instinct code.
Free will
illusion.
What’s the
point?
Is there a
point?
Performing
roles,
designed.
Deep scale
instincts
controlling
the flow.
Spinning
pieces on
a grand
stage,
beginning
to end!

 

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