Real Day

the different tastes upon my eyes
as i lick my brain and circumcise
my past ideas before i realize
that people will always idealize
the envisioned transmission of their mental treats
’cause fallen trees make natural seats
for rest unless we decompress
too much too soon as we make a mess
of the future we’re here projecting intent
to protect and serve and then redirect
towards a new way of thinking before it’s too late
and that guy over there tries to steal my fate
since nothing else matters and no one else shares
i know that’s a lie but it fits in these pairs
of lines of rhymes of stories galore
it’s all in your mind and it’s all just folklore
like the pixies that play with the faeries’ wings
or the wizards that can turn you into anything
except a person who believes in only the truth
one who can think and one who can prove
the nature and cause of why we are we
and the way that we are and how we can be
more honest, direct and circumspect
with the facts of the day and the daily subset
of medians and means and modes and the scores
the modal changes of the chorus’s chords
before the trumpet is played and princess is saved
i’ll awake from my dream and begin my real day

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