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Flatlander

The sky is always two shades off from your perception,
In that mixture of blue and white is something you can't see.

The moving images crossing your eyes, are they as good as glass orbs
stuck in a white room?

Four corners, four walls, four sides
Is all that you can see.

Lost in your own time, unaware of those around you
Awake and Asleep
Aware of everything and aware of nothing.

Struggling to find something which you cannot feel or touch,
or smell or taste,
Only the ripples in its wake tell you that its there.

Are you chasing the image, or are you chasing the trail?
Grasping at the end of your ideals.

Seeing everything and seeing nothing, like fish in a pond

To you, there is no third dimension.
There is only your world, and nothing else.





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