I have more questions than answers.
\nMore answers than I understand.
\nMore mysteries than certainties,
\nand less memory
\nthan the elephant, who,
\npoor creature,
\nmust remember every sadness
\nof its life.
\nWhat do geniuses know
\nof people like me?
\nOf the confused tourist.
\nThe guilelessness of labor.
\nOf knowing only plain things.
\nSimple little truths.
\nA penchant for believing dreams.
\nThat people are what they claim to be.
\nThat books make you wise.
\nThat money is the grace of a person.<\/p>\n
Which is how much sense I have.
\nTeachers throw up their hands.
\nI could not follow their beautiful phrases,
\nbalance their equations.
\nAccepting what they said
\nthat there are no stupid questions,
\nand then call me dumb
\nfor asking why?
\nWhy? Why?
\nBecause I could not add things up.
\nI wanted to be inside the things
\nI knew.
\nI wanted to open doors not there.
\nHave reason for things
\nthat did not exist.
\nFor all of which they said,
\nI was slow,
\neven though the sky
\nmade letters out of stars,
\nthe wind returned my calls,
\nthe rain said, dance with me,
\nand they laughed
\nwhen I told them.
\nWhy?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I have more questions than answers. More answers than I understand. More mysteries than certainties, and less memory than the elephant, who, poor creature, must…<\/p>\n