Necessary Chaos

This roiling mind, chasing, plotting
A spoiled child, wanting, needing
Finally, understood, clearly seeing
Watched in amusement, spinning
Thinking, rambling, twirling
Never leaving, and never arriving

But a ghost, forever pushing
Broken fingers vainly grasping
This broken toy, finally outgrowing

Gently, lovingly put aside knowing
So much time wasted playing
Foolish games, and no one winning
Stoic Poetry

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