Vacillating from one indecision to another;
Questions pondered, but never answers sought.
Never really wanting to know. Ignorance is bliss;
It's ecstasy for some for knowledge means commitment.
The warmth of the mire beckons the masses;
It has a mass appeal; the mess; the filth of undecidedness;
The lack of preparedness facing life wild eyed;
Always unexpected trouble to those who sit and wait.
The End
Go on to next poem by Mark Edgemon: Indifferent Differences
Return to: The Works of Mark Edgemon
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