Calliope
08-13-2005, 03:29 AM
A single inedible goldfish flopping about my palm in it's cheddar-flavoured manner,
A box of birthday leftovers thanking you on the way out,
Paintbrushes and canvases and your soul soaked in oil and turpentine,
Rushing to and fro a large field waving a net about your head,
Flailing desperate attempts to catch stray ideas,
We can see you come out with your hands up,
Oh the miracle of technology and the division of labour,
Fragments of Persia seeping out of the carpet,
This die has twenty sides now which one are you on?,
The hope that there is more to live by than numbers,
Versus the constant knowledge that Merit would be worthy of any hardships endured,
Anything to never be looked at like that again.
A box of birthday leftovers thanking you on the way out,
Paintbrushes and canvases and your soul soaked in oil and turpentine,
Rushing to and fro a large field waving a net about your head,
Flailing desperate attempts to catch stray ideas,
We can see you come out with your hands up,
Oh the miracle of technology and the division of labour,
Fragments of Persia seeping out of the carpet,
This die has twenty sides now which one are you on?,
The hope that there is more to live by than numbers,
Versus the constant knowledge that Merit would be worthy of any hardships endured,
Anything to never be looked at like that again.