Mulling.

Little pillars of green,
Blow softly in the wind.
I sit and wonder what I've seen,
What has come, and what has been.

Massive columns of white,
Drift slowly in the sky.
I dully ask who has the right,
To question what is and why.

We sit in vibrations,
Which force us to move.
We strive for a good sensation;
In comfort to set the mood.

I lust for more knowledge.
To know more of what is.
But trapped in the mindless college,
I know no more--than the quiz.

~ Tiss


Submitted: January 19, 2011

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