For the future we feel in the past
The way we get from day to day,
With tortured thoughts that fade away
In bloody wrinkles of the heart,
Hoping for the next novice start.
Regardless of the goals that we pursue
And the improvements that are overdue,
The flow of life spans through all dimensions -
Reducing to good or bad intentions.
If worlds are in fact achromatically so,
In non-existence I would sadly chose to go.
What masterpiece of colors creeps between the shapes,
While talking of our version of the sour grapes?
Connections help us stay on litten paths,
Forcing our mischief into sacred baths,
Seeking enrapture as well as the ride,
Balance between humility and pride.
From fingertips to the cortex,
What we are graces the complex.
Simplicity is illusive as happiness or perfection.
Ultimately a life is bits to which we pay our attention.