Heralding Variance
By Simonic
What’s looking down at me? Unable to see it’s calculated variance The dissonance of a smile When the wind’s blow winter frost, mid summer While trying to maintain This failing prosperity, and so I herald in this coming age of Reason Logically picking at the variance Proclaiming all these lies Through smiling faces, lies Through the blinding warmth Heating faceless eyes, now able To comprehend, this face above me, Grinning with it’s crucial calculations I stand and stare, calling upon this Reason And watch one by one razored teeth fall To commute to this bare and naked babe I see now, crying here above me Just a babe, not even able to speak nor worry Only able to crawl along it’s calculated variance Long drawn out to fit their means, and to Drag the pretentious and blind about his crib Feed him through toothless smiles Teaching him only so much is covered by a facade, as I herald in this coming age of Reason Logically picking at the variance Written December 17th, 2001 © on Dec 17 2001 11:51 AM PST 0 • 9
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"What’s looking down at me?..."