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Writer's pictureKeshav Suryanarayanan

#89 Wonder



I wonder

Why it is so easy to tell other people what to do,

But a whole other thing when you have to do it too.

You seem so wise when you're waxing eloquent on speaking your mind now,

But you know your mind is the same too, and not even that deep down.


I wonder

What the other people would say,

If they knew how you played the game you're teaching them to play.

Would they still see you as someone to listen to?

Or just a hack who's getting others to do what he himself couldn't do?


I wonder

Do we just mistake all that's silent to be sorted?

I guess we can't tell all that much about a closed book, at least not until we get started.

The book could be anything and we wouldn't even know.

It could be all we think it to be, want it to be, wish it to be, or it could just be a bore.


I wonder

If one can only hope the other people see you as you,

And somehow manage to see you as people too.

But isn't it a bit too much ti expect them to read a book you intentionally keep shut?

Like wanting to eat your cake, but also not wanting to see it get cut.


I wonder

Why do these things suddenly run on overdrive in a mind you thought you'd already reined in?

I guess, when you try and shut some things out, you also shut some of the pain in.

But maybe in some ways this is just a regression to a mean,

And in some ways things are still way better than they seem.


I wonder

Why I wonder about these things so much,

And if this isn't just a train of thought gone off the rails too.

But then again I remember why and when and about what I write.

I see things, I do things, I sometimes don't do things, and then I feel things, and then I do one more thing.

I wonder.


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