There’s a prime anesthetic to which we all desire. I have bottled the serum and sent it to scientists,
to ration the doses, and bring all of us most our reserve.
We play with our toys and ignore all the quiet, clash symbols and drums with our words to give comfort, but the silence is wrought,
to kill our meaningless conversations, conversation, conversation.
To solve all the world’s great troubles and fears is what, I sought to do, with cleverly placed mirrors to,
Reflect the good and sooth all our hearts give us affirmation.
But despite the hard trying toil I spent there was, little to nothing, left with empty mint,
Never to see a day of work, hope as we know it was just sensation, sub-elation, I’m out of patience.