The World Is A Television.
To see the world like eye sees nose,
And the sky with the eye lid pose;
And heaven with the Mole of mote
Makes life a piece of acting bloat.
The one that answers to a doubt
Is left of knowledge, aware out.
The one that trains a horse to war
Is feigned to seem as fit to war.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
And so when life is piece of cake
Your tongue would twist but lip would rake.
The flying golden beggars' rag
Is slap on heaven's golden bag.
For all fingers are not equal
And cutie ugly 're but equal.
For man was made for joy and woe
And you with me would rest his soul;
And if this truth could write on hearts
Will all dust know this life's some arts.
For every tear from every eye;
Is made up fr'm joyous griefs that lie,
And Oldie's rag spread with delight
Is richer than the richest night;
For engines squealing saves them strength
And the poor's strength is more at length.
Who mocks the growing infant's faith
Shall slowly slope to ' grave of fate.
The world's a mirror for their lies–
A world is enough for the wise,
But does human form wise display
To those who dwell in realms of day?
"words from the innocent mind"