Cumulus mountains drift by my window
Pushing the first cold breeze of the year
In the small open crack
It is fresh and tangible
And forces change
And so is to be embraced
Everything within has become like paper
Words fading away with the fall of each evening
Every morning a reset to zero
And what do we do to maintain
But try and steal away some order
Where none can live
Because our madness is a liar
And good at it too
As we revel in our own deceit
Nothing has changed because
It never does
All these rules are merely presented as new
But you know
As do I
That they can talk and talk and yet
While they dictate that all must be
Either black or blue with no third choice
Their words are written in sand and made to be kicked
Away.