Confused

Ropes pull on me from every direction,

and all I can think to do is sit down and cry.

My world is so much bigger and complex

than I had ever known,

and I don't know how to comprehend it.

So how can I begin to pretend to understand it?

And what does it matter what I believe?

My belief is meaningless in the eyes

of all the others that believe differently.

The truth pays no mind to such petty things

as that which we humans decide to believe.

If I could describe my universe, myself,

and the complexities of every thought and every action and every second

that envelops my existence-

if I could describe all this in a single word,

the only word that has the capacity to relate to it all would be

confused.

Everyone and everything is utterly confused.

I am confused.

About what? That is an excellent question.

This poem is about: 
Me

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