Fake Ways…
History once lived as geography
Before the eyes, behind the ears
Of the unknowns, of the knowns
We still do not remember.
The pebble I lifted from wilderness
Once cracked from the wonders
But it has no value at a home
Where footprints of starvation have won.
For an insect to live, the energy it need
Comes from faded hands that try to hide
The powder of swear, and water insecure
And the poison in chorus sings in harmony so pure.
The world a page, I read inverted
Jumbled and scratched from top to bottom
A puzzle with fitting dimensions
With all pieces plain of the same colour.
Time links the past to future
With end the only subject in sight
I search for it without success
So I just wait for days and days.
And I walk only on fake ways.
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