Who Really Knows
To my readers I hope I have.
This is just the start,
starting with us, just a small part,
of this circular wonder.
Curious minds,
seeking to obtain anonymous finds,
but in a place so big, where’s to start,
when we, are just a small part.
Each future turns to history,
in this circular mystery,
I can’t help but wonder,
what’s above me and under.
It couldn’t be what they all say,
for they have never seen,
the new wonders appearing each day,
but than again, I’m just a learning teen.
Anonymous as hiding in the blanket cover,
waiting for the wise one to discover,
their masked identity,
to fill the wise one with insanity.
The rest don’t have the wise one’s eyes,
so of course they didn’t understand,
'cause no matter what, they wouldn’t realize,
the visible mysteries lurking this land.
Exposed, was a great something,
that the nonbelievers turned to nothing.
That’s just a small part of why we will never know,
unidentified mysteries continuing to grow,
until another is as brave as a hero,
to ponder with new knowledge, not their ego.
What if it’s genuine beauty?
Or a sickness, fierce like a coyote.
We will never know,
unless you get up, and go.
