Tuesday, September 2, 2014



The place appears to you without a touch;
we sit and rage and never make a sound.
You never did enjoy this place too much.
Forever talking, all the way around.
Sense enters here but only just a peak.
The rest is up to you; the trick is there.
We cross our eyes and legs for that we seek:
in order to succeed we have to care.
Why put us anywhere but in a frame?
The wall will hold us up for a short time.
Eventually you catch onto the game,
and then the frame is worth more then our mime.
The space from you to me is solid fact,
but everything between is all abstract.

1 comment:

Rebecca Ladbrook said...

I love this. You are so good with rhyme.