certain
Learn more about other poetry terms
One cannot belong to his belongings
That much is certain, no matter our longings.
The darkness is dying, gives birth to the dawn,
We, not objects, should be the ones who do the pawning.
Are we really meant to move ahead
All the things holding us back, sometimes I just lay in bed
The war, the debt, the things we can't change
I'd speak about it but get labeled insane
I believe in the possibility of error.
Of an equation reaching an end that doesn’t exist.
I believe in truth. I believe in fiction.
I believe in everything in between.
There is no such thing as a center.
