“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label percent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label percent. Show all posts
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Trace particles
We need oxygen and yet there is
only 21% of this to share...
What else is there...
Well,
We all need water, and yet we find
one percent of this elixir, potable
on this Cagean terraqueous orb.
We need sleep, we tire and tear
with wear, we need to turn it all off,
down and out, overdone, burnt and
wasted, inward.
And consumables can be
inedible as well as hollow.
But empty calories make
friction
wiser we no longer mind
insurance and investments
but with luck we discover
miserably in need of love.
Just don't hold others breath
or lick other wounds,
this one silent assassin,
starved by selfish need
of Other.
We will share,
because we want to live
to some percent.
Pastel on paper by Stanisław Wyspiański, The Mulchs ("Planty" at night), c.1898 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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