I sometimes wonder why we do what we do.
What makes me any better or worse than
the next one
or the one before.
Some love all of their lives
while others
reflect on what it means
to love,
still others never love at all.
I once knew
I now know,
I'll never know.
So move in and out
weekend
by weekend
staring at the lights
as they dance around me
calling to bartenders
smiles and more,
heathens for more,
Yet
I can never fully dance
too lost in my own thoughts.
David DeSantis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunday-morning-22/
