Piecing pieces, puzzling, peace is
a price to pay for safety.
Seems that mending seams is all the same;
slavery to sanity.
Puzzling over peace is a
pasttime for the broken hearted.
Dearly departed, oh so sane,
free from calamity.

I think that I may want to Be
but I'm. not. sure.
The evidence is startling
that this is just the start of what is
what could. what may be-
What is. what could,
what may seem
I think that I may want to be much more

Piecing puzzled peace, a state
of intelligent tricksters.
Some minds backwards is all it takes,
if there's enough they'll call it sanity.
Seaming fabric of the mind
a trick for lords and those who find themselves
sick of. being a slave. to their. minimum wage.

I find. that the. more I find
I know. less than I. thought that I knew-
although. that's nothing new.
I find. that the. less I mind
the more I do.
I know. you be~.cause you see,
you are. just me
and we. are a~ll one,
children. under the sun.
I know. that sounds insane
but look at who points that blame.

Cheating through the streets of life,
one must always outrun
the Man, Machine, the system, and
the one who holds the gun.

I think that I should probably
want to Be for sure.
All the cool kids are doing it,
Siddhartha, Lao Tzu, and there's more.
I know I should def-in-it-ly
just open up that door,
and take the plunge into the void...
Just do it.
Just do it.
Just do it.
JUST DO IT.
JUST