Simplicity
Is the most complex
Of all the states
A being can be.
Every breath
Every chance encounter
Every step
Each decision that is made
Erodes it.
Wears it down.
Kills it.
Is that why
Perhaps
You can’t understand me.
Have I made too many choices?
Taken too many chances?
Breathed that one breath too many?
Or is that too
A lie
I tell myself.
Am I actually
The simplest of all beings
Hiding under
A facade of words.
But what does it matter really
If it is the core that is twisted-
Or the veneer.
All I know
Is that I feel myself
To be
Not so much misunderstood
But rather
Under-understood.
And all I can do
Is wonder why that is.
Disjoint Wisdom 