Buns and Corners

Is balance found in threes Or does it always have to be even? Are we always right or are there several ‘rights’.

I always wonder, if balance is maybe an illusion

That perhaps in a sense we are all unhinged,

Dreaming of that perfect round table full of unbridled laughter.

Maybe we are all filling that demented void

With perfect filters and meaningful captions

Or maybe it is but a legend from beyond

To help those ones, that live on this orb.

Live we do, in a world we spun

As we chase purpose, meaning and more,

Those that we craft among others, our struggles

All our waking hours is a tug of war

Against impending doom and maybe also for relevance

Then we sleep and we wake up, then we die and others are born

The charade thus continues, in a world we spun

In search of purpose, meaning and more.