My world is narrowed down to one tiny dot
Small and comfy, a universe in a cup
But the world is saucers and glasses, chinas and crystals
And I am one cup, alone but at home
My days are routine and impulses are rare
I think what I think; I say what I say
And when speech fails me, silence is golden
But the world is subtleties and double entendres
And I am plain words, intent on content
My life is a straight line, an index in time
I think. I live. I exist.
And when I am no longer, I am nill
But the world is legends of those long past
And I am faded. I am dust. I was but no longer.