Bowl of Soup
Dog running after a cat after a mouse;
Who wants who but the other?
Better not to know who,
Pygmalion's mannequin really was.
Simple intentions;
to keep the human from falling,
off the tip of the tray,
Into a bowl of soup.
Constant distortion of the senses.
Seconds after minutes of,
The struggle between two sides
that cannot merge.
Of reality and dreams,
The fibers of your spectacles are made,
To let you see the threads,
Carefully Intertwined.
And in the bowl is mixed,
Both the soup and the mind,
while the cheese was eaten,
By a master-less dog.
Bon Appetit.
Who wants who but the other?
Better not to know who,
Pygmalion's mannequin really was.
Simple intentions;
to keep the human from falling,
off the tip of the tray,
Into a bowl of soup.
Constant distortion of the senses.
Seconds after minutes of,
The struggle between two sides
that cannot merge.
Of reality and dreams,
The fibers of your spectacles are made,
To let you see the threads,
Carefully Intertwined.
And in the bowl is mixed,
Both the soup and the mind,
while the cheese was eaten,
By a master-less dog.
Bon Appetit.