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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1755307
A poem on relativity
I saw not that which was there but that which I saw, and defended that sighting until I was raw.

Pain seeped deep, in my psyche did dwell, a change in position came as consciousness swelled.

Ever so relative is all which is seen, scientific objectiveness is all that I mean.

So never the door of realization close, lest the mind sit to welter as the petal of rose.

Black and white contrast from those that know, bring the chill of ignorance in the winters blow.



I see, I know, they know, we are, says the man standing back, standing back so afar.

I am, you do, it is, we stop, says the man with the money leading the way to the top.

I'm right, your wrong, stand here, don't go, says the women which loves the wrong end of the show.



We see not that which is there but that which we see, and defend such sightings as a rigid oak tree.

No pain seeps deep the psyche is fine, as the whole world screams I am right: MINE, MINE, MINE.

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