Ignorance

This poem got me to thinking this morning....

Philip Larkin - Ignorance

Strange to know nothing, never to be sure
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.

Strange to be ignorant of the way things work:
Their skill at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape, and punctual spread of seed,
And willingness to change;
Yes, it is strange,

Even to wear such knowledge - for our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions -
And yet spend all our life on imprecisions,
That when we start to die
Have no idea why.

Everyone is ignorant in some way. Life is just
figuring out one thing at a time. We're all on
the same page, really.

Kinda good to know.

:D

End.