This is my soul speaking,
With such wonder,
With knowledge,
Insight,
Such wisdom,
Yet none at all.

And,
As I sit here,
Thinking I have all I need,
Yet I have nothing.

For I know nothing,
Yet think I know everything.

For my soul is bare,
For all to see,
Rich in stories,
Tragic,
Yet beautiful.

Here I am with,
Every kind of story,
Some of which,
I’m too afraid to share,
Others I can’t wait to share.

Filled with such curiosity,
Without a means for answers,
For guidance,
Hopeless in it all.

I bare my soul,
Naked,
And exposed.

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