am i at a loss and gaining,
or gaining from gained?
one step forward,
or a jump to the left?
motive takes stage and i wonder often, "why?"
discontent, even in my contentedness.

i am so full of questions about living and seeing,
and hearing and dancing,
and falling and bleeding.
i understand i need nothing,
yet still strive for more.
polymath desires in a world fighting sores,
from the boredom of focus we've come to pursue,
careers often no more then living lost time.
so, i take my questions merrily as something to do,
'cause i'd rather be mournful of thinking than never wonder, "why..."