These Numbers Are The Devil
These numbers are the devil.
They hide in shaded veils.
They grace the backsides of billboards.
They travel on whispers through the air.
Whispers themselves,
They sour the best of intensions:
A vapor that slips through cracks and open doors,
Seeding hearty vines of complexity.
Those numbers live and grow and multiply.
They feed on the food of commerce.
To silence them would be a fool's games,
As their echoes travel far and wide.
No, these numbers must be counted
And counted on
And welcomed, but not without rules or cages.
These numbers are the sighs of sleeping tigers,
Dreaming of the free places they have known.
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