Once I found a place to sit, I thought.

A short poem about thinking.

I thought about the people who I had once disowned
and the people I once loved.
I thought about the people who disowned me,
and the people who once loved me.
But, did anyone ever love me back?
What if their faces were a facade?
Masks that you must peel off,
for then to realize it was their face.
For then to realize the blood that drips
is like time
you will never get back.
The time wasted on
thinking.
Just, thinking.
Thinking about this nonsense.
Thinking about the people
whom I had disowned and the people
whom had disowned me.
The people whom I had loved
and the people whom had loved me.
But,
Did anyone I love
ever love me back?