Plenty

There's plenty.
Many phrases to be said,
lots of feelings to be felt.
More is here, more is coming,
much more shit to be stepped on,
lessons to be learned.

There's so much we say,
bizarre and unreal things,
like "I want... I need..."
and even there're moments
when with certainty we preach  "I believe..."
They do not exist, and yet
they managed to make us think they do.
There's nothing filled with pure truth,
nothing but God,
nothing else.

Sometimes we speak
with some accuracy in our words,
wisdom words, underestimated words,
like those times when we say
"I am not sure" or
"I don't really know".

There's plenty within us.
So much, perfect, unstable,
constantly flowing, unstoppable.
Let it flow,
it's too much.