Poem: I don't think it will be understood

I don't think it will be understood

but maybe that is the point,
even if I don't like thinking that.
I know it has more than nothing to it,
that there is not a secret emptiness,
that all the hiding places are filled
or should be full, have been set
for those who arrive.  I am certain
and not certain, and it is equal.
I can do all that I might
but there is still too much
that is fraught.  I don't know
why it is required,
I only follow the path
and do it as I must,
as I can.  There may be 
other ways, there may be.
They are not mine.
I cannot find them.

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