The Good Fight

The Good Fight short poem

Photo by MacBeales

Into the bowels of my being I go,

searching for who I am.

Far out into the
 I search,
as far
 as the eye can see.

So many questions
 I have,
but true answers
 a rare commodity.

Frustrations mount, 
as I search, and
 search and search.

Road blocks abound
 as others 
hold up their arms,
 defiantly saying no.

Seems insane I think
 into infinity
 the brain power
 entrusted to me.

Is it simply better to
 accept what I see,
to enjoy
 that juicy steak?


should Don Quixote
 like I be,
 tilting my lance
 my inner being,
 waving my sword
 at infinity?

I depart now
 for dinner
 a fat and juicy steak.


I’ll be back, to once again
tilt my lance toward infinity.

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