I’m a short circuit
My ends just don’t quite meet
My pencil is my carrier
My eraser its competition
To have weight in my words
Or to have worry in aesthetic
I’m a short circuit
My ends just don’t quite meet

Absorbed by my abstraction
I’m left puzzled by empty thoughts
My intent; not yet refined
Incitement is getting lost
Wholeness in completion
Would be rather great
Yet I still fall short
Every step closer that I take
Unsettling impediment
Stops me dead in my tracks
I’m a short circuit
My ends just don’t quite meet

Roses are red
Red like desire
Careful don't get burnt
By the prophesy of fire.

Frozen, completely still
White squares on the walls
You've seen a thousand times before
Innate, familiar, completely new
Emanated by blackness
Dusted over by disregard

The memories of garnered squares
Digested like a populous pit
Halting your pant
for an immense instant
                                                                                    
                                                                                                   Exhale.

Ignorance is the way to see them disguised
As white squares on the walls
You wish you could conveniently forget.