At home, with his soliloquies,
His fantasies, his memories,
His thoughts about disparities,
The youth he’s seen destroyed —

He struggles to find meaning in
The flow he’s intervening in
By screening in, and leaning in
And typing to the void —

For what is self-esteem but this?
To find and hit what seems amiss,
But miss the inside ludicrous 
The unity deranged

A world no longer recognized,
Just shadow-strangers, all despised,
Not knowing, with hope fossilized,
That he’s the one

Who changed

The Quest, Not the Conquest

"The journey, not the destination" --
 That is what they told her;
 But was going anywhere
 Without a "where" to go?

 But now, upon another hill
 With many leagues behind her,
 She's realized the "where's" of life
 Are never all we know

 The only way to reach the truth
 Is sideways, and with stealth --
 And it's the effort makes the journey,
 The crux of what she's learned about