Over Observant

Oh how despicable is the sight of life

The stage it sets out for you

The inches and yards it calibrates

Puts a full cooked meal, to be eaten

But errands to be completed before

Leaves you with a solemn sense of security

That your one touch can turn things to gold

With mere contemplation and inner scrutiny

For no one, not even your soul

Is ready to ameliorate the burns of friction

Between the prepared and underprepared

Settling you in a tight leash

Controlled by your palate so bourgeois

Behold and Beware

For how despicable the sight of life can be