by Connor Zimmerman on January 16, 2020
Poetry
by Sam Ward ’21
*
I conquered moon cycles, fake news, reignited lighters
with no signs, nowhere to hide, huh.
It’s life, it’s all surprises,
we live; the vibe is priceless.
But when you rewrite the mileage,
you see, these times are stagnant.
**
I used to do this every day.
Now I cannot remember what I said yesterday.
Maybe it is complacency or that part of me rebelled,
Or there are greater forces at work, my chakras disassembled.
I used to turn my truths to fiction,
now just, solace in superstition.
***
If it is not nourished, we forget.
When trying times establish, we neglect.
If it is not tied together, what’s the point?
Let my attention see and my captivation seize.