Ego

A Poem

Time erodes perception.
A tire swing is empty,
A helmet is oxidized by the sea,

The world as we know it
is composed of Us;
The ego,
imperceptible,
unacknowledged ego.

Hand prints and foot prints
grace the bottom of lakes,
like scars from a lover.

The ruins remind us
of the myth
of rationality.

You are more ego than you know.
More an echo of misread insult,
and silent pride.
Smiles you did not intend.