perception – Reveries That I Call Poetry

Not Seeing Red

Before I started looking for red cars
on my way work to home,
there was none.

They were all grey, I guess—
or was it my world?

I had lunch;
it was bland.

Home to work.
Where are the blue ones?

No better

You know better than to know better
lies: you’re worse at what you do best
Or are you better at what you do worst?
Well, anyway, that doesn’t matter
Don’t you play the fool for me

I know better than to know paradoxes
Or thinking outside of those boxes
I know better than to write all this lingo
I’d be better off to live real life