The Meaning of Life

What kind of small-minded ninny

Must I have to be

Thinking I could give grace to this

This unanswerable posit

Perhaps I, a medium-minded ninny(?)

In my forty formidable years

Might have some wisdom?

Surely it mustn’t be anything more than a slight of words…

Or just Semantics

Fuckoff, I bellow!

For I claim my voice regardless of its universality

And I tire of anti-semantite sentiment

The rhetorically inclined have to know

At some level at least

That high minded questions have no answers for all

Individuals, however, might find one

If they seek the depths within

My truth is that I know a meaning

The discovery

And more importantly, recovery

And uncovery (because I value inclusion and neology)

Of my Self

My years and moments have been awash

With Others

Their fears and judgements and insecurities

Their joys and clown aversions

Their values

And worst of all, their expectations

I’ve taken theirs, and I shed them

Consciously

Purposefully

One by recognized one

To give my life meaning

Knowing my true self

Before the end

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