All of us unique
Yet also somehow the same.
Words? Don’t give me words!
Projected imaginings
Masquerading as a truth.

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on May 15, 2020, in Wee Poems and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. What happens when the projected imaginings are ALL you can actually see, EVERYTHING you hope to know, EVERYONE you thought were, and the FREEDOM to understand things clearly?

    Hint: Sit in the moment and enjoy it for what it’s worth!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. blahblahblahjm

    Very deep.

    Liked by 1 person

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