I once had a Blog.
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I once had a blog: I’d expound and expose,
uphold and uplift, consider; propose.
I’d give my opinion and take it away.
I’d see it as real as light of the day.
My blog cared for me; it’s where I would put
my life and my arguments, all drenched in soot.
I once had a blog on which I’d complete
those thoughts, to their places confirmed and replete
with certainties; principles; though I’d deny
my way was the best way, and others’ were why
I continued to blog, without reference or past;
I must be illumined, created, and massed.
I once had a blog where my thoughts were as sound;
my take was appropriate; feelings profound.
Today, I just wonder, as, though I convince,
my wisdom, my surety must make me wince.
I cannot know for you, nor her; even me!
Persistence; illusion; conclusion to be:
I write to release, I write as I care;
without some expression I might wander, where?
To doldrums of wishes and rooms full of dust;
and forthwith I channel my thoughts into lust
for silver-clad truth I continually seek,
which doesn’t exist, making value seem bleak.
I once had a blog that relieved me of conscience,
that fed me with substance, that helped define nonsense.
But now that it mocks me in silence and shame;
I soothe its poor ego with words not to blame,
but let it evolve as it must and it might:
I once had a blog that was free, but not quite.