Plastic (poem)

Connections form and strengthen or weaken and break;
Memories and goals can be searingly real or comfortably fake.
Your shape and being constantly morph and mutate,
As you decide to keep or discard the treasures in your estate.

Your many toys strewn about are cheap and weak,
The permeating ambient music is bland and meek.
The columns and arches with metallic luster are not iron,
They gradually discolor, bend, and distend as you learn.

For better or worse, life is experienced one frame at a time,
For joy or pain, surprises appear without rhythm or rhyme.
Change is the only constant in your chaotic existence,
Some can be suppressed, but others defy resistance.

Embrace your inner butterfly that conjures and thrives in storms,
Savor the unexpected consequences of karma’s infinite forms.
Find gray stoicism in missed opportunities beyond repair,
And don the plastic mask of joy over the countenance of despair.