Words – Thoughts – Doubts

Words, Thoughts, Doubts – it all depends  
– freed and trapped by the same chance –  
on a strangely gained confidence
that there’s no failing coincidence?
 
Words seem forced to make some sense
to reveal some hidden plans
but who's the one who understands
such ambiguously written demands?
 
Thoughts seem forced to construct sense
to rebuild poorly guessed plans
but is it me who comprehends
the signs of a concrete circumstance?
 
Doubts seem forced to question sense
to restructure planned dissents
but language bears meaningful blends
and so that wrecked poem never ends
 
Words, Thoughts, Doubts – well made up sense
rearranged by psychic chance  
thought by transcending ignorance –
autopoietic confidence  
 
Words, Thoughts, Doubts – it all depends  
– freed and trapped by the same chance –  
on a strangely gained confidence
in a poetic coincidence