Windmill Cried
As I sit here, on a rectangular cake
Drawn and tied from Earth's oil, not fake
I wonder how to, in deuce, enunciate
of the state, wherein, I participate
Past tense, was I; island dwelling to hide
The thing that tied; and bound the path to dive
Terrific honey, which sleep required
Flowed wild with purpose; and never lied
Stuck to the ground; with entertainment quite boring
A guitar hero accomplished; nihilism recurring
With goods hands, in a happy place
The scenery dull, time for a break
On they came, or I to them
For me, really? Hesitation
They asked questions, quite leading, and when it was done
A train ride, to happy town, check in and tune down
The halls were quite clean, and the watchers quite ordered
The meals were on time, distracting and forward
Powders prescribed to keep time flowing even
Day and night cycle; Swiss bread repeating
As I arrived to despise the box I was in
The windows and doors that shuttered absent sin
And stuck as I was; with the ties to comply
My reply was a nod with a wink; and pity implied
Good fortune was kind to supply and find time
To use you and your keys to fly; surprise
The gears they did grind and mill for the bread
The water was lifted and carried far ahead
The story is now short, the sun breaks with news
Get out of bed, hair mend, speed spin, with trues
-KAL
Copyright © Kileem Al Lishmiin | Year Posted 2013
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