Some days I have read you
and found every word absurd
some I've skimmed in silence
and your meaning goes unheard -
some I've had to sit and stare
as the letters drift and fade,
and deny you validation
for the arguments you've made -
but answer me one question,
for I can't comprehend
what it is that has me reading
you from beginning to end?
And even when it seems to me
that I've read every word before,
each always faithfully there,
and never asking for more -
it still is quite the mystery
why it is that I can't find
any rhyme or perfect reason
in these pages of your mind.
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