All of the mazes having ever been navigated
by all the geniuses who found their way so easily,
have been spun around, made more complicated;
what we are shown is nothing like what we paid to see.
The pristine Miss Commitment has re-arranged her time,
now believes she may have a spare lifespan to see you.
Still, her attention is divided along an ever changing line;
almost as often, she would just as soon be free of you.
The intricate balance, just to the right of polished ego levers,
where does one go sideways to let more urgent couriers pass?
Is it across the road from Always, or right down the street from Never?
Or in small doorways where “Eventually” meets “At last?”
In the beggar free buffer zone, barely an inch away from madness,
unpaid brickman left out quite a few, the road is otherwise twisting.
It just had to fail because they just had to test it
using instructions made up mostly of confusing listings.
The wall of information is misdirected, built too high,
trying to see we stumble backwards and fall down.
Too many choices, not enough chances, only one try
to figure out exactly what the wall might actually surround.
Reality has a slipknot around your neck most of your life.
Wireless circuits are known to stretch the truth from time to time.
Although Destiny has no memory of taking seriousness for a wife,
words spelled the same except for one letter no longer rhyme.