I am but a cube,
Spinning, twisting for a side to live best,
To find the best side to live,
For it is like this the world enters my eyes,
And never a perfect sphere has been lived.
Those that have found the side to live best,
Have not found the best side to live,
And those thinking they have a sphere,
Will come upon the sharp, cutting corner,
Drawing cold blood like truth from deep within.
With the breathing,
Living days I have spent cutting on this corner
Come realization,
The truth,
The reality that sends us all back from that piercing corner
To the cube to yet again attempt to mold ourselves,
The multi-sided cube,
Into an original,
single-sided,
complete roundness.