The Problem with This

I don't see the way to view the world through a kaleidoscope
Only how to see it through black and white lenses
Like an old fashioned movie

This idealistic view of nothing will one day of course be shattered
Already is,
Already has.

It's a time for nothing to be done and everything in particular to be changed,
The useless information that falls into this
And returns to that only to find it all broken,
This glass unicorn upon the concrete wall.

Don't you see the frustration
The battered condemnation
By men in a thousand nations
Seeking out the useless information.

Here we go again,
In this place that nobody see's
In this place that everybody is watching.

The world will always consist of those who saw it all in water color
and in technicolor
and those who remained, and will always be color blinded.

Their reds are black,
Their greens are gray
There rainbows are distraught in the their blandness.

And in these lush gray beautiful black skies
Where cyclones twirl
Men are thrown around like popsicles
and left upon a smoldering paved way
by those in the sunshine states.

Cataclysm jumps to mind
Catastrophe,
A void darkened and bruised.

this is everything that everything warned you about
and that everyone in every room told everybody else to find
Don't do it,
But please do it again.

Its the same old song and dance,
The same old tune
That replays always and forever
till someone throws that radio out the window
and shatters that glass.