HUMAN ME.

Supplanted wood filled all the forest,
Sprayed down with some deodorant;
A solid girl and local florist
Replaced the pine and heather scent.

A radiant light shone from the sky
Inside a silver bowl of glass,
Turned on because the sun up high
Was clouded by the past.

A sound was heard within the rocks,
Grown fainter down the years,
Spare voices kept within a box
In case we failed to hear.

To touch the artificial shape
With pads imprinted freely,
Our skin was wrapped in friction tape
Until we felt it clearly.

We opened up the world’s commode,
And poured in all our nature,
Because the emigrants abroad
Had consumed all the virtue.

So bet anything you care to crave
Against the throw of fates response,
And nothing will be all you saved,
And sense will loose its chance.