Wednesday
At this age we know nothing, even if we know everything;
you haven't opened your eyes yet (and if you have,
rinse them out, I'm afraid there's something
in them) and your ears are full of cotton.
It's safer to say we know nothing
than to say we know everything
because our 'everything' is
surely distorted by
technicolor
filters.
YOU ARE READING
Post Meridiem
PoetryI'd do anything to save myself. Hell, I'd even change the world.
