www.whyville.net May 1, 2005 Weekly Issue



ocea14
Whyville Poet

The Truth

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FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC
Starches of data
Strands of words
A Masterpiece
I couldn't create,
My fingers unravel
My hands fade away
I watch myself
Deteriorate.

Sapiens have limits
Science has limits
But where they lie
I can't understand,
We break the rules
We break ourselves
And what we become
Is no longer man.

My arm vibrates
My world spins
They bury me
behind tall glass walls,
But soon there is nothing
But soon they see nothing
My visibility is gone
And humanity falls.

Without a body
Without senses
All illusions of
consciousness are gone,
I am nothing
You are nothing
What we perceive
Is how we hold on.

What you believe
What you pretend
Determines whether
You're insane or fine
You must ignore
You can't explore
Unless you dare
To cross the line.

 

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