The Sophist

2015-09-10 12:00 am

Day 1:
No stoic women and no false metal,
Living the life,
Inside of a kettle.
Hopping and jumping,
Trying to escape.
Grinding my teeth,
While the symphony plays.
"Does it feel great?"
"Yeah, it really feels great."
"Now what should I do?"
"I'll cry the next day."
Weeping,
Watching the moon start to settle.
Disappear too soon below false nettle.
"With such regret I will miss when I die,
So I dream to escape the world I deny."

Day 2:
I sleep;
The moon and my mind both settle.
I no longer jump;
Steam fills my kettle.
These stoic women;
Fawns for false metal.
Living my own life;
Fit in fine fettle.