Looking inside the translucent window,
I saw the image of her hopes and dreams.
I saw her head resting on the pillow,
Her world upturned by the hideous screams.
Her faith and desire crushed by the fire,
My vision blocked by self-abiding truth.
My own heart aching with great desire,
For the endless ties of her naive youth.
Aha, sadly, the truth is truly no.
A world of food is where we wish to go,
To live among the fruit that doesn’t grow
On the Earth that only makes Pizza dough
Of which is grown on South Asia’s big toe.
Reality exists in the humbled foe
You know?
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