Three Blind Mice

The mice they come in many forms
There are always three of them
In poison clouds or dreams long held
Or sometimes just in men.

The mice themselves hold no sway
They are only here to run
To carry out their Master’s deeds
And turn the rising sun.

For if he says that east is west
And night is middle day
It is not their place to question
The lies he has to say .

For if they did they would not be mice
Upon this we must agree
And for what it’s worth and truth be told
The mice are you and me.

The mice they come in many forms
But there are always three of them
Blindness, hope and hatred
And never if but when.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s