Driving
In our little tin boxes
Walking around in our purpose built bodies
Thinking
strung out in our heads
Everything we see
Touch
Smell
Arriving through the filter
Of us
In the end
The only things we truly own
Are what we say
What we do
What we’ve done
And the voice in our head
That it all comes through
And never shuts up
Till we’re dead
It houses our truth
As we see it
What lives we could have led
If not for the voice
In our head
That said we couldn’t
Shouldn’t
Mustn’t
Wouldn’t
And in the end
It’s just some damn voice
In our heads
This is a wonderful poem for so many reason! We would like to host it on our site. For some reason, we cannot seem to Reblog this particular poem. Do you mind if we strip it from your page as a “Re:Blog” pointing you to your blog?
Sure – thanks for thinking of me guys
Yes that damn voice in the head.Well penned
Thanks Megha 😊
I loved this poem , Kate. It’s all true , it’s high time we realize that. Well written in your usual peppy interesting style.
Thanks Yassy 😊
Welcome, Kate🤗
Beautifully.
Thanks 😊
Ahhhh the Ego and it’s endless chatter…….
Endless 🙄 I’m glad I recognise these days that it isn’t real
Great Post
Thanks 😊
You nailed it in one.
This poem discusses exactly why I practice yoga.
I love yoga too
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