meditate on

Am I a teenage boy or a teenage man?
Question mark tattoos adorn my
hands as sand and keys
pour from my mouth

Like words from pleading eyes I
nearly hypnotized from the
afterglow of dreams I sit
straight as the line I did not
trace I
meditate

on the past the present, future
and meditate
on which of those worlds I
should occupy

and meditate
on why I no longer
weep

and meditate
on

and meditate
on

and meditate
on