How strange it is every day
To rise from sleep, to work, to play
How odd it is to take a breath
Just as odd is any death
Repetition is the rhythm
Inevitability is the rhyme
How strange it is for any given
To a mind outside of time
Why when I release a ball
Does it fall? Does it fall?
And whene'er light enters a prism
Why is it always a colorful schism
Why when we follow this road
Can we know? Why can we see?
Who wrote this odd law and code
So complete with consistency?
God bless,
>P<
Joshua Fahey
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