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The existence of 'me’

 
The trumpets of fame
can find us again...
sometime...
Never thought I’d get again this high.
The commotion that surrounds;
those acknowledged sounds
that confirm that time does try
to just live us by.
 
In our minds...
Were we not nothing?
Now we are something.
And that something can only exist
with our heads in delusion,
Identication with the illusions
that we could ever be anything more
than that which we are.
 
I see, I am falling.
Close to birth I was crawling.
Funny that I now appear
no higher than I was then.
Now what have I gained
but a new name
that I could only keep for a while?
Now what was the point of all this?
A theatrical play
from then till today?
A story, is that all it is?
I gained some new names that
I gave back again.
The hero, the villain, the loser, the winner
in my stories.
Roles that did overwhelm...
You may say “It’s not always about you.”
But I’m the main character in my film.
And so, in my experience of life,
nothing is seperate from me.
Nothing is seperate from me.
 
In our minds...
Were we not nothing?
Now we are something.
And that something can only exist
with our heads in delusion,
identification with the illusions
that we could ever be anything more
than that which we are.
 
So to myself I am known.
With the Earth as my home.
I have come to know this world
as the world has come to know me.
You see, the places that have shaped me
have witnessed my presence.
Then what I have known
Has also experienced me
to a degree...
 
So to myself I am known
and the world, as I know
it to be,
would not exist
without the existence of me.
 
In our minds...
Were we not nothing?
Now we are something.
And that something can only exist
with our heads in delusion,
identification with the illusions
that we could ever be anything more
than that which we are.

Other works by Esther Yasmin Groeneveld...



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