One looks at an image Sees something in it It could be a cloud That he is looking at It soon fades away Before others can see Then the beauty he says Trying hard to convince me It is mystical, mist and myth So much make believe And when confronted with reality This guy does his best to deceive How many ways can you have it? It is either true or it is false The way some carry on about it You had better take their pulse Everything they see means something They will have it no other way And they want to argue their point Wishing always for the final say You get tired of all the nonsense This game you do not want to play So you do the most prudent thing Take your ball and call it a day He will holler and call you names Blast you and call you insane You keep walking; it is all over He is convinced that you are to blame All of this the result of a foggy brain Stanski December 29, 2021
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Steve Haarman 