Cloned by self

Ecclesiastes 4:8 

There is one alone, without companion:
He has neither son nor brother.
Yet there is no end to all his labors,
Nor is his eye satisfied with riches.
But he never asks,
“For whom do I toil and deprive myself of good?”
This also is vanity and a grave misfortune.

 

Here he comes walking ... with an ability to run.

Always guided by his thoughts and traveling that way

Not sure of direction and unexpected turns

like he doesn’t see them in the middle of the day.

 

Deeply involved with self he does not notice others.

In the middle of the flock, he thinks he is alone.

Surrounded by folks who really are just like him

bundled all together to appear like each other’s clone.

 

Jan Wienen

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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