Thought Battles

Some days...
I feel more
like I don't belong
than others.

My innermost being
senses
the presence
of my not-so-distant ancestors.

The blood
in my veins
becomes
cloudy and muddied

As thought-battles rage on
between opposing philosophies
and differing motives.

Through my cells,
my forebears attempt to settle
old scores
That remain

uncounted and long-forgotten
in the world of the living.

Slaves, immigrants, outlaws,
church-goers, coal miners,
Share-croppers, Europeans,
Africans, and Native Americans

All have a hold on this net
of existence
in which I am bound.

Their voices often scream out at one another
in exasperation
in my head.

Sometimes I wonder if I fit at all.

This world seems too crazy
to change.

I'm the sole human
in a herd full of lemmings.

I want to play God.

Crumple the whole thing up into a disjointed wad,
Throw it through the air in complete disgust,
Watch it bounce smartly off the far wall,
Straight into the garbage.

So that I can start all over again.

As a human, my choices seem much less gratifying.

Today, if I were God, I'd start over.