The walls seem to fade in colour,
the ones that held on to my valour.
The rain breaks out wild,
as my thoughts revile
the dubious washed walls.
Till then I seek refuge in the lost halls.
While I count my marbles,
to the evergreen warbles.

You can search, look and explore,
For days, years A lifetime
Often passing, what you desire,
Even if you feel all the right signs,
Because it’s not the perfect shape, size, or age,
Of the imaginary picture, you created, in your mind.
This one- time, short life, is A gamble, and risky,
Some decisions we make, can lead to binds.
Always remember, each of us, are an experiment,
Carrying A soul inside, we live, and feel, this life,
The soul, will mix the new and old experiences,
The reason, our purpose, and our role.



Tom Maxwell © 4/1/2021 AD

Life is a system
and i am its product
producing mosaics
and i am its robot
life gives me a function
and have a-  
hand?

Here is my product
another mosaic
for i am a robot
and that is my function
but i have a hand?
That is not in the system...

Am i a mosaic?
A rainbow of robot
and then is my function
to lend you a hand?
Programmed in my system
to give you my products?

Am i a robot
devoid of a function?
An empty hand.
A useless, silent system.
No products.
No Mosaic

What is a function?
A powerful productive hand!
A hyper-intellectual system!
A booming blossom of products!
a busy
mosaic
a
straining
robot

I take from your hand
and inform my system
I create my own products
Perhaps, I am the mosaic
Perchance, I am the robot
and I function.

Bumps from the system created my hand
creating my products, I dictate my function.
For I am the robot that made the mosaic
and I think that's alright.