We are under chemical directivity
they are what we are, you see
DNA winds environment and history
but to us it is a blind mystery
In youth the chemicals
turn our eyes into shape envy
we see things old now differently
when the spiral ladder so decrees
time for that chemical dance; 1,2,3
They find our signature stuffed indifferently
scattered way out in distant Milky Way seas
suitcases floating spectographic identity
islands the same as in you and me
Chemicals have liked to claim a soul
as in love they are able to do so easily
for how has so much exact serendipity
so much perfect compatibility
come into we to be?
Some might say we chemicals
are on our own doubt indefinitely
Ideas, just happening to appear to be
found near hydrogen and oxygen’s
tide bound Mother Sea.
We live in what we call reality
and every part would need to be
purely coincidental culpability
which seems like purest improbability
that formulas would change perfectly
with a puzzle fit to unveil this diversity
all from the same redefined energy.
Chemicals are typing
this tales on-line plea
vibrating string theories
quarky quantum quintessence
I feel my ego head swells
with idea based encephalopathy.
I dream of friends
in gray simple rain
I am closer to love
when nearest to pain
I am just like you
you have your own name
but how unique are we
we do not type the same?
Words make us as one
but who is it to blame
when a coconut holds its future
its open shell, the rain.