but after years have passed I began to notice
certain patterns re-emerge
and when I went to scratch my itch
there were no fingers to do the job
and the itch was a whole side of me
that went missing
I trusted a metaphysical agenda
only a fool would undertake...
TA-DA!! Here I am a warrior
diced by some ephemeral samurai
and left to ponder as my one-legged torso
and the head atop it begin to slant and shift
I think I'd better re-think those anecdotes I'd planned
to bore the young'uns with...
it seemed so different through my eyes
and even my story is relative to my assassin's tale
or who I'd never meet or who I'd left behind
there is something so uplifting about defeat
it tempts one to think of wholeness
but I've in spite of myself come to know better
even as what's left made it through...
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.