A poem begins with a lump in the throat

I'm not confused. I'm just well mixed.

I write to find out what I didn't know I knew.

We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows.

The only certain freedom's in departure.

Thinking isn't agreeing or disagreeing. That's voting.

The middle of the road is where the white line is - and that's the worst place to drive.