Time to take a look, past the web and dust, <br />This life is all dimensions—forgotten <br />Lies take on the form of ghosts, without trust; <br />But there is the Thinker, thinking rotten <br />Thoughts that linger back and forth, finding faith. <br />Digging deeper, searching for the headless; <br />It worms its way through time, through frozen space, <br />Around stars, suns, slaves, hiding from success. <br />Finally found, the answer lies in cracks, <br />Inside a mirror of a mirror, glass <br />And body impeding a hand of black; <br />Tempting, touching, but the truth has no mass. <br />The Thinker thinking upon a glass floor, <br />Not the while knowing his mind and more.<br /><br />Kale Beaudry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beneath-the-floor/
