Formalism

I was nurtured on the teat of sweet belief

creating what I call myself. Unique. Good grief!

My personality is like an onion made

from all these other second-hand beliefs conveyed

to memory and accepted as a god’s own truth.

And so I fade from infancy to bitter youth.

But ask myself this question most see most naive:

do I remember being born? I can’t conceive

a moment never being. That is what I am.

The rest is just some evolutionary scam

the absolute unknown intends so I may know

I am the absolute unknown. No pain, no rhyme.