The Only Mice I Know

I want to unwind the way clocks do at times.
I want to be real and less imaginary.
These walls could pretend that I exist in this mess.
I wish it were true but this fox is cowardly.

I want to age like wine to get better with the time.
I want to dine with God to ask him what he's done with me.
I'm lost inside my head with death creeping up my neck.
I wish that i was sure what the mice were thinking.

I'm waiting for a world
Where machines will make me wives.
I'm standing in these lines
To choose what they'll be like.

And I'm staring at these homes
That seem to paint themselves.
Amongst gardens where people grow,
They pop right up from hell.

by Derek Kuborn

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