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But more than a lie,
Half-truth, mystical interpretation,
About the color of the sky.
Light, get bent, by the atmosphere,
Heavy water, fall from the sky.
Mystery is mystery, and models
Will never really say how and why.
I contemplate the weight of thought,
And come up with several milligrams,
By what unit should we measure
Something that never is quite real?
There must be several tons of
Balderdash, hidden in my heel.
And the weight of fate, stated in
Imaginary numbers, still isn't right.
What measure mass the
Lurking beast under the bed,
Bogeymen are tons of fun
When weighed inside your head.