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Okay, yeah. Some time ago I used to be a big poetry writer. Well, I guess technically I still am since occasionally another one of these verse-like grouping of words escapes from my head. I haven't done as much recently since at one point I noticed that my poetry was going one of two ways. Angsty-wangsty emo type stuff, or lovey-dovey mush type stuff. Either way, I figured I'd do the world a favor and cut back for a while. So here you go, the first poem that I have written, in quite a long time.


The Point

I hear, but am unprepared.

I see, but do not understand.

I know, and have missed the point entirely.

But I let go, and gain much.

I discount nothing, and learn all.

I give everything, and I live.


Enjoy.

-FireSpark Out
Ana Pascal: You mean, am I a member of...
Harold Crick: An anarchist group, yes.
Ana Pascal: Anarchists have a group?
Harold Crick: I believe so, sure.
Ana Pascal: They assemble?
Harold Crick: I don't know.
Ana Pascal: Wouldn't that completely defeat the purpose?