What are we?
Suffering in suffocating skins,
with images of pleasantries-
things that don't exist.
We're stuck on this earth,
like we're chained to a wall.
Our dreams and fantasies
like food beyond our reach.
Ah, Temptation!
My manipulating mouth.
What are you-
But a man beneath your crown?
What happens as we age?
We grow wise with what we say?
But what do people say?
They grasp 'reality.'
Ah, me--!
What do I say?
The grasp is just
beyond my reach.
 
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