Exiled to dusk,
Fractions of the sun
Begin to lift away,
Casting our reels
Into a pond of uncertainty,
Clock hands bend
With advancing shadow,
And speak of time
Only in past tense,
I so want everything
I ever felt for you
Preserved for posterity,
Even should forever
Be far less than
Then I'll be stuck in the epicenter
Of a very catastrophic outbreak
I'll be exposed
and wonder if technology
Is the cause or savior of my fate
I won't listen
and settle on a very reasonable ignorance
I'll cling to God
Like we always do
And wonder if I'll go back when this is over
I'll blame everyone but myself
Rant and explore probabilities
I'll do what we do best
I'll be human
Dear 18th century
I thought you should know that
earth has officially been destroyed
The perpetual fair at my little village
Is a sight to behold for one and all.
Vendors come from near and far
To sell their enchanting wares to all.
One is selling salvation guaranteed
for all of eternity with no toil at all.
Another sells you virtual reality
To escape from your daily slavery.
While another sells you eternal youth
So you can always indulge your vanity.
There's one selling grandiose schemes
On how one day you can bathe in gold.
Such are the vendors at our village fair
Selling such great wares to one and all.
But when a man arrived at our great fair
Giving 'common sense' free to one and all,
He was ridiculed by all for being a fool
and threw his ware as far as they could.
“What good can come form this”, they said,
“its worth so little that he's giving it away”
If common sense wasn't so "common" maybe we'd value it a little bit more.