My Far Side
You say, I’m too far,
towards the far side?
It’s a hazard of my left-handedness,
that I see the logic in abstraction.
Worlds lay within worlds
and colors bleed personality;
Oh, it may be distasteful
in the world of mathematics
to give a square five sides;
not in my world,
it’s a box with the lid open.
Into that box I pour
my imaginings,
things that only I can see
of which, some folks display
their jealousy;
they accuse me of being backwards,
of not following the rules.
In my world, rules are
shades of grey,
monotone
monotony,
my imagination
does not obey.
No one tells me that
a cow can’t be purple,
that clouds can’t speak
or that you can’t draw the
invisible realms.
Step into my guitar and dance,
it’s playing itself for you.
I’m an original, you see
and I travel in
imagination’s zone.
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