Playing with plastic tea cups
Brittle from over use
Chips in little spoons
Over sugared by abuse
Far too small wooden chairs
Far too small for me
Setting ‘round a small table
Waiting for company
And no one is watching
And no one dreams this dream
When they are as they are
When they are not what they seem
Riding on the winds of comfort
Touching colors formed from glass
On the tips of tiny shadows
Where clouds cannot pass
Bowing trees to catch reflection
Distorted by a wave
Endlessly thirsting
For the water they can’t crave
Every flaw is a perfection
Every time it is not seen
When they are as they are
When they are not what they seem
Bubbles floating in a pattern
Inert in outer space
Lost thoughts without questions
No resistance to be traced
Caged inside it’s own universe
Speckled by its only cause
Twisting into to an illusion
Based on virtual laws
Manipulate with pleasure
Distort by no means
When they are as they are
When they are not what they seem
-Shabetei
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