Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Curious Relationship Of The Made and The Maker

There is a place in the world
Where all the dresses dance
And all the music sings
The shoes all tap their heels
The books all write themselves

There is a place in my mind
Where clocks stop time
And music skips itself
Shoes stop walking
And books crush the spines which hold them together

I see them coming now
They think they've got time,
But look, they're aging even now
They think their tunes are smart
But look, it controls their souls
They think they're in control
But just look at their feet,
They go where they want
They think that they are strong,
But see the books, manipulating their minds

We make the dresses
We make the clocks
We write the music and the books
We build the shoes that hold our socks
We are not in control

Often, the made thinks it can conquer its maker
But just look at the the dresses
Look at the clocks
Looks at the music, the books, the shoes
We can stop sewing those dresses.
We can stop building those clocks.
We can stop writing that music and those books.
We can stop making those shoes.
And whatever shall they do?
Not a thing, not a thing
For we made them
And no matter how powerful they seem:
They cannot overcome.

© 2010

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