Why do I feel so empty?
Eyes closed, I see
Only gray.
Not even darkness.
I hear my heart thumping
In my head and
I wonder why
I’m even here.
I clasp my hands together
As if in prayer;
Maybe I’m hoping my
Inherited faith will
Accord me some dimension.
This cold emptiness
Undermines me, and,
To an extent, adds
To my predicament.
Too many things interrupt
My awareness of meaning,
Which feeds my
Uncertainty.
I vacillate, not sure
If it is “I” that believes
Or my ancestors
Believing through me.
If my meaning has been
Stamped on my heart by
Someone else, someone
Who is not me,
Someone who is less than God,
Then it is a phony meaning,
And is, perhaps, why I
Feel so empty.
©2017 Steven Barto
