Paul Gerard Reed
A Bubble About To Pop
Are we just ants in the pavement cracks?
And the sky is just the sole of someone's boot
The moon a pearl on our army's silvery backs
Drawing us on to the earth's tap root
Are we just tiny specks of dust?
Moved around by a godly hand
Amongst the dirt and dried-up rust
Of a heaped-up shale tip land
Do matchsticks make our forests and trees?
Is the ocean a solitary drop
Are we crawling on our hands and knees
In a bubble about to pop
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