I feel like I should know why the sky is blue
Like this is something school teaches you
Or I could use Google to learn it too
But as I sit here typing this I don't have a clue
No I don't have a clue why the sky is blue
Perhaps the sky is but an alien eye
And in it's rocky pupil we abide
And as our giant rocket ships from its eye fly
Into the gravity we defy
We find that the universe we spy
Is simply the sclera of its eye
Though I'm sure there's a reason scientific
(And one that's probably not as horrific)
That explains why the sky is blue
But I like to think that my story is true
YOU ARE READING
Conscious
PoetryThis contains the random thoughts of a college student. Brace yourselves for depressing weirdness.