Words of wisdom come like the rain
Under an umbrella as the drops scatter.
One day the words fall like the drops
And the next they rise in recalcitrant steam.
We live within a fine-coated blanket;
Our world manufactured in our own torrential stream.
We dream of a world which favours the splashes
Of that we can only wish to seem.
We step into puddles of our own accord,
Not counting the jumps we chose to make.
We steep into dark, dampened recesses
But our shoes are only soggy for the sake.
Rich, poor, or hungry for more,
We all seem so different but we're just the same.
Sanity, a state reserved for the sane
But who knows for whom, while we await the refrain?
