Geometric are the angles
that coordinate the 

cheese of said mind.

I prance along closer,

but have forgotten my next line—
It was an uncertainty
within the age of reason.
It was me against myself,
if advancement meant treason.
I was then

and am now,

Picking up the memories 

by the hour;

A transition from haze,

something to do 

with reclaiming one’s power.
But, with much Ado,

“Your character and substance,”

give us all that we need—
They wanted ego to subside,

but they’re the ones who brought back the 90’s.
I stomp;

I step.

I’m on my own to unravel,

at the end of the day,

I remain the one

who experiences my travel.

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