What 'It' Does
By bdgrey
Two roads whence came a trio of fifths, A third, one-ninth, and a final one-sixth. A ray with ease in tempestuous light Shines down from below with momentless fright. Then a tear naked and absent of faith, Lines up, takes aim, restricting mad wraiths. Magnanimous apes with bananas to spare, Throw wildly their prize at lives in repare. Six circles of sizes that differ the next, Outline the surface with fading concepts. Finally a pear not a bear you must hear, Took steps at the end to relinquish what’s dear. This is what happens when a mind drifts away, Not bad nor great, yet good just the same. A final iota of what comes from the heart, Nothing makes sense when love finally starts. An endless array of confusion’s dismay, As objects, yes things; move up to the stage. So in all reality what can actually be said, Except nothing makes sense when love enters your head. Written March 9th, 2002 © on Mar 08 2002 04:47 PM PST 0 • 8
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"Two roads whence came a trio of fifths,..."