Thursday, August 08, 2013

Discrepant Statistical Manual Number Five

There is no wall between the real world and mind;
The faults in memory are burned away by light,
And cures we claim are just our breath upon the wind.

I manufacture friends, the letters which they send,
To cross the buzz of news, and feign a scarce delight,
There is no wall between the real world and mind.

With opposition, I think all these ills might end,
Within the great machines, and I believe despite,
The cures they claim, that are just breath upon the wind.

The complications suck us in, we are confined,
And speculate on new disorders, so we cite -
There is no wall between the real world and mind.

Break any rule to not live barbarous or blind,
Or fabricate regressions in the lines of sight,
For any cures we claim are breath upon the wind.

My truth falls with suns as I fail to comprehend,
Why there are dragons taking tea with me tonight,
There is no wall between the real world and mind;
And cures we claim are just our breath upon the wind.

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