None To Boot...

we all search for clarity,
thoughts are like parked cars,
diagonal parking,

like game cards, thoughts
reshuffle,
we organize, arrange,
trying to get most of what
is given,

then we reason out
why we lose,
blame it on random
luck is nil,

then we stop, we tell ourselves
this is just a game,
reality is not yet here

outside the house,
the dog barks, we know
a stranger is coming.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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