The roughers and the bold,
The limit of the cold.
Affairs of the spirit
unfairs of old.
Speak up and detest,
those that try to achieve the best.
The smoothers with their hair
told me to be more like them
when I couldn't care less.
The wake left between
The rough and the smooth.
No one did try to bind the two
With filaments of silicon thread.
I made my choice to come here to work
Not make friends.
I came here to reap some kind of dividends.
I shuddered as if something dead
had passed ephemeral before my path.
I shuddered and laughed, trying to soothe the potential anguish
I muttered and shivered, trying not to languish.
So I am here now, no speaking no detesting.
The wan fear grips me how there will not be resting.
I try to thread the silicon through the eye
of oblivion.
The limit of the cold.
Affairs of the spirit
unfairs of old.
Speak up and detest,
those that try to achieve the best.
The smoothers with their hair
told me to be more like them
when I couldn't care less.
The wake left between
The rough and the smooth.
No one did try to bind the two
With filaments of silicon thread.
I made my choice to come here to work
Not make friends.
I came here to reap some kind of dividends.
I shuddered as if something dead
had passed ephemeral before my path.
I shuddered and laughed, trying to soothe the potential anguish
I muttered and shivered, trying not to languish.
So I am here now, no speaking no detesting.
The wan fear grips me how there will not be resting.
I try to thread the silicon through the eye
of oblivion.
