I am but a passing muse
With a couple of eyes and a couple of hands
Walking, and yet not moving
And with these hands I wish to build
Not castles, not palaces
But bonds that last longer than our bodies
That will stand the test of fate
Though these eyes shall never appreciate them
As they are but blind to all that doesn't move
But once in a while they do notice the patterns
Among the endless sea of static
And I let out a squeal of joy that falls on deaf ears