Poem Hunter
Alien Minds
AS (20 Nov.1950 / Yerevan, Armenia)

Alien Minds

Poem By Aram Stefanian

I'm sick and tired of whistling in the dark:
I have no foggiest idea of what's what.
When struck, a damp match can't produce a spark.
Where did I go astray and missed the boat?
I'd like to catch on to conundrum of life
To sneak a look into the obscure hereafter.
Will mankind be involved in bitter strife
Among nonchalant gods, choking on contagious laughter?
Inside the scary infinity we're waxing and waning.
Imperfect dreamers with cold feet and grabbing hands.
With futile weird thoughts we ourselves are maiming.
Are we gonna reach a meeting of the alien minds?

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