Burnt Paper

So what is wisdom but remembered ignorance?
Do we hold the pain of failure replayed within a crystal ball,
And replay the images in words we hope reflects our best
Do we ignite a spark, a common fire,
That says together, I know you.
Do we hold the memory to help others?
Or will the tears wash out the fire one day, alone.

Did I steal it all from the buddha?
And recite at seventeen, ancient wisdoms.
Like Oscar Wilde defining youth as knowing the value of nothing?
Did my thoughts,like teardrops fill the buddhas ancient jar?
As the fool who persists in his folly becomes wise..

Do I share the fire,while it burns?

My last words,on burnt paper,
Still to crumble

Become a blonker. Please join in and leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.