I don't feel like I've used my brain so much
these last ten years. Not like when I was young.
Things vanish right off the end of my tongue:
birthdays, names, anniversiaries and such.
I don't spend time on philosophic dreams;
few ethical conundrums seize my mind.
Sometimes I feel I've just been flying blind
one day to next, with no stops in between.
Perhaps I once considered my own thoughts,
believed beliefs, held certain meanings deep--
but now I walk through life as though asleep,
my brain tied up in unsolvable knots,
My self subsumed in routine, hypnotized,
and dying, dead, before I realized.
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