Words make sense and numbers don’t I try to count, but then I won’t The digits blur, my thoughts plateau
"What the hell is 9 x 4?!"
Mother says I need to practice, “Mathematics covers all the bases!” But numbers never spoke to me— Static is all my ears percieve
Equations dance and then collapse I trace the lines, but miss the gaps I’m nearly thirty (yes, it’s true) Still count on fingers—calculator too!
But give me words—I’ll make them soar With metaphors and quiet lore A single phrase can build a door.
The cash register waits patiently Just how many twenty dollar notes are these? It’s nearly 5:30, I wish I were home Where silence stirs and words can roam.
A funny one about being better with metaphors than multiplication. Words make sense. Numbers? Not so much. For the finger-counters, the mental math dodgers, and the dreamers behind the till.