I always wonder,
knowing and not knowing
The purpose of life.

The Incipient loneliness, Is
The end of life,
Like a slow female menopause

At a particular stage or age.

I, no longer can amend
My bad habits
As they are ingrained
Like commands,
In a fraudulent Scripture

No more I belief those theories.

Manners and outward behavior
Never impacts on my feelings,
Although in the crowd of love ones
I still feel my feelings
		So
				Abandoned.