Can you see me, a suggested expression,

one that does’t expect any reaction,

except to say,

go away,

for I am of another dimension.

 

It is in the faces of our population,

the happy troubadour in position,

the contemplative activist,

they’re all in it

together,

to suggest a mind has imagination.

 

Yet why write songs about a flower’s illumination,

is it to pretty the subversion,

that piece of our lives,

we tend to ignore,

we walk away,

only to later suggest we are under observation.

 

We design ourselves upon the brink of a nation,

all of us a part of the imposition,

that sacred knowledge,

the world exists together,

sometime forgetting the notion of compassion.