At first I see an open wound

infected and disastrous.

It breathes chaotic catastrophe,

it cries to be renewed.

It's tears are the color of anger,

they dry to form a scab.

To the touch, it's stiff and resilient,

underneath, the new skin breaths.

It's all been saved,

with the exception for the right parts.

When will we be new skin?

As outwardly cliche' as it may seem,

yes, something under the surface says, "C'est la vie."

It is a circle, there is a plan,

dead skin will atrophy itself to start again.

Look closely at that open wound,

see past what covers the surface.

Underneath chaotic catastrophe,

creation takes the stage.

It's all been saved,

with the exception for the right parts.

When will we be new skin?

It's all been seen,

with the exception for what could be.

When will we be new skin?

Until The 20th Century

Reality Was Everything

Humans Could Touch,

Smell, See, And Hear.

Since The Initial

Provocation Of The

Charted Electromagnetic

Spectrum, Humans Have

Learned That What They

Can Touch, Smell, See, And

Hear Is Less Than One

Millionth Of Reality.

Fallacious cognitions

spewed from televisions

do mold our decisions.

So stop and take a look,

and you'll see what I see now.

It's all been saved,

with the exception for the right parts.

When will we be new skin?

It's all been seen,

with the exception for what could be.

When will we be new skin?