Reality is like a cloud of smoke
What burned?  Who set the fire alight, and why?
We try to breathe, but with each breath we choke
Our teardrops fall until our eyes are dry
There is no way to clean the filthy air
And so we make reality our own
creating “beauty” when our minds repair
solidity with any little stone
Though others try to put the fire out
It makes me laugh to think they have a plan
To think that they will try to live without
reality.  I wonder if they can.
I laugh at what I think and do as well
Reality is heaven’s smoke in hell.

Leave a Reply