FUTURE SEEKS

Written in Corvallis, Oregon


I’m supposed to write this poem.
Something to make me feel better.
Anything to keep myself from harm.
Self-love,the key.
How do you figure I find it?

My heart could be a vessel.
My mind a shipping yard
where many people have docked.
Where many have disembarked.
Where screening is a must.

Right now, my mind is playing
tricks when opened.
Perhaps closing will kill it
and the question to beg
is how to save a drowing child

in a sea of chaos.
Who would have the trump-card?
I wonder who I am.
I have I lost myself completely.
Where shall I find this Román the future seeks?