Static Perseverance

All he can see is at the end of a pencil, Sedated by a 3 inch piece of lead, Self-portraits are of only a stencil, A picture stains the paintings in his head, How far does the land go beyond the window? Far enough to see the end of the day. And does the bird fly as far as the wind blows? Far enough to find a warm nest to lay. Her ears scorched by the sound of scorn, Laughter tears and turns tears to her eyes, Bows to down into the form as to which she was born, And dreams of dissolving into a dawning sky, How numb I have become only known by numeric? Taught only in the trenches of comparison. How cold the hand grows held up in hysteric? Endure and you’ll ensure your end, my son.