Your beliefs have placed you in a particular position. Think about it!
That’s why my beliefs are open ended.
The intentions of this simulation puzzle me, still my portion of the matrix is full of purpose. I proceed with caution and enjoy the experience.

Sometimes In summer
When the weather smothers
I wonder whether the garden knows.
The shape of the hand that mothers
Or the fist that brings the hose.
Flowers wilt and bow in worship,
Begging palms to bring the rain.
Fruit given up in offering
To exchange and then obtain.

Ticking clocks paint the air with time
Zippers drag slow with a mellow chime
Graffiti walls whisper in neon hues
Skateboards cruise under psychedelic blues
Theremin cries like a ghost in the night
Squeaky floors sing in a flickering light
Dulcimers hum a kaleidoscopic trance
City bones shake with its cosmic dance
Dreams drip down in tie-dye streams
Stardust heavy like shattered beams
Baby scratches echo
The bass unfolds
The universe spins in colours untold
Moon winks as the streets come alive
Vibrations hum through technicoloured eyes
Broken tiles sing beneath our feet
Melodies thrive where chaos meets
Time slows down in this painted maze
Eyes wide open in a lucid haze
Clock hands melt feral and free
A symphony born in graffiti debris