Mr. Bradbury, have another drink and tell me
Can reality destroy you?
It is seen through different perspectives,
Therefore, is there even a basis for it?
It doesn’t exists as anything
More than a concept created
By the small ten percent of our brain
That actually works.
It is nonexistent and yet can be altered.
Would you agree?
Ramped up and made more vivid with stimulants,
Slowed down to become gentler with opiates,
Made more bearable with love,
More painful with hate
at times it comes to a complete standstill.
Like now, sir, standing before you lost in such thought.
And at this very moment, Mr. Bradbury,
This empty, quiet moment of nothingness
Shhhhh….
You and I are the closest we’ll every get to reality.
So, I pour you another wineglass of words, sir.
And ask you,
Should not reality fear our sobriety?
That we, in our musings
Might reveal it for what is really is:
Nothing.
Great, great poem! I love that you addressed it to Ray Bradbury - and that you pour him another wineglass of words. Really, the whole ending is just fabulous.
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