Wondering

It’s not that I ever knew,

much of anything.

It seems that mostly,

I blunder forward,

bouncing into walls,

giving myself bruises,

that never heal.

Looking about,

I see the unexplained,

those bits and pieces,

of color, of sound,

the smells of life,

that linger on the wind.

Wondering, 

what am I,

amongst all this,

blundering ahead,

gathering bruises

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