Middles

Where do I begin? or should it start at all,

Dreaming of a dream gone by,

No thoughts except for those complacent with the past,
Asking all the questions better left unasked—

Better left unanswered.

If I reject the gifts they give,

Their gold and their perfumes,

Should they turn their backs and leave?

Borrowed lies they left behind for me to squander,

In all their haste forgotten.

There’s a movie playing on a screen,

In an empty theatre down an unlit street.

The title drew a crowd, replaced with empty seats—

No one stayed to see the end,

They wouldn’t like the credits.

Where did I begin?

No secrets kept from all the world,

Only those I call my own,

Or those I still don’t know.