There are so many unknowns
In our long or short lives,
Two things for certain
Our departures and arrives,
Anything much more than that
Relies on momentary choices,
Does it really matter
Who owns the Rolls-Royces?

Only if you get wound up
Into the ideas held by others,
Happiness or sadness
We learned from our dear old Mothers,
When we were raised
As children, way back when,
And the more years I survive?
The more I doubt everything, old friend.

Not to be misinterpreted
As a pessimistic outlook,
It’s just that I’ve broadened my interests
Reading every kind of book,
And I’ve settled upon fiction
Where imagination rules,
Such a melting pot of thinkers
Willing to share their tools.

I have played with a lot of ideas
And they are all a part of me,
Bits and pieces of mechanical toys
Nurturing this family tree,
Shared openly, to influence
Perhaps something will come of it,
Although, there is always the chance
Of total rejection, every little bit.

During the second phase of life
The unknown becomes known,
So, I put it on speed-dial
On my fancy smartphone,
I think it’s reliable
At work, everybody comes to me for answers,
But don’t try to match my footwork
I was always the worst of dancers.



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