I am deftly swept away

In the tyrannical tidal wave of noise

The regurgitating sounds of boys

Playing with their tractor trailer toys

Brought to keep up this ploy

That I’m really small

That I am really small

That I am really insignificant

This rock is so magnificent

And this atmosphere to translucent

To accept safety as we hurdle through space

Cause catasrophe will be heaven sent

But not by god

Just the odds of time in this race

Allow me to displace

And digress

For the be heavent sent

I meant the terms of old

Cryptic manuscripts told in

Times where gold was the

Boldest of the bold

The conception of space, the infinite

Under the name of heaven was sold

Furthermore It’s suffice it to say

That I was trying to display

Through a metaphorically metaphysical kinda way

How annoyed and how small I felt as that semi

Rumbled past my way

Perhaps it was my high mind

Or simply enzymes

That took my thoughts and ran to find a new bride

For devoid of sweet noise

I angrily courted the street corners

Eyeing the perfect spot to stop

And put the burner to my cigarette

I had to stop to have my head get

Straight

With the new cleared air

I pushed back my hair

And stared directly into my being

Without seeing anything concrete

The abstract visualization of my thoughts form a street

And the day sounds compound

To create the soundtrack to life that was so profound

And pound by pound I begin to glimpse how

I got so off balance

For that truck stepped to close

A violation of personal space expectations

Rather preferred sound variations that

Boasted that ugly ugly set of

Waves into my ears

Furthermore I feared that

I would never again hear

The good cheer

That the world beings near

For the rational international

Auditory background gives

Ground for a permanent smile

For footsteps and the songs bird sings

Are violin strings

And the rustling leaves in the wind in the trees

Are the cello, the timpani

Of this world symphony

I like the pleasant music

I hear in the ways of the world

But apparently I hate the

Wails of tears from a little girl

Or the tortured shouts

When relationships unfurl

So when the void is filled with the noise spilled

From the back of 16 wheels

I am willed to realize

It really won’t matter if I’m killed

Or if I’m born again

For winds will still rise

And storms still set in

The joys derived from noise in life

Are as significant as the contrived sounds

Of toys to child’s minds

Son this red brick walk

Its chalked up to this:

I can’t get pissed

When the world slips

An ugly sound into my crown

For the noises heard mean its

Absurd to think

We’re much more than a part of the ground

And that the atmosphere that surrounds us

Is way bigger yet smaller than the universe around us

So this how a semi truck let me know

That I’m really small

That I am really small

That I am really insignificant