Mission impossible ... always turned out right.

Man has always answers ... to corner someone else.

Always with self in mind ... and eyes for another

make things kind of squeeze ... as calluses are felt.

Am I writing in circles ... do I know what it means?

As my pen moves over paper and words are pouring out.

Does it all have to make sense ... the moment as it fades here

or are some thoughts just set aside ... for another mental bout?

Nothing new under the sun ... did someone sit before

with pen in hand and paper to write ... “I don’t know what?”

My son, who is analytical ... will just shake his head

and call it a waste of time ... while proving this or that.

Memories are fading ... life is passing by.

Time seems to disappear ... in shades of nothingness.

Being here in quietness ... not caring about anything

is like another dimension ... a form of forgetfulness.

Jan Wienen