Not feeling this life… I look forlorn sometimes

What if the reverse happens!? Would that also be reversed!?

sometimes I lose the feeling of how it is to feel,

yanking my broken train reverse to scenes I’ve seen,

in an another time when life was not this and that,

it was not me who stepped through the threshold

(I wonder if it is me today when I step these footsteps),

possessed by a palindrome of words, they ricochet,

into webs of oil I leak down my brow into the eyes,

.

I was a boy, or was it that I was ever one in my eyes,

if truth lies every time, where trust shall put my mind,

to stay aground, no more falling into smoke holes,

that only go deep, and up, but never in my reach,

and now that I wobble at the precipice, of change

in the meaning I felt caricatured in me, I have but

to worry of life, if life was ever mine, or just a ruse,

.

 not has it come out to be mine today, still a ruse,

only thing different comes to where my faith resides,

no longer entangled in fates, but in neurons of time,

for I have lost the feel, I’d have but to feel a new feel

.

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