Abstracted Poem by Mon Uero

Sitting on the green carpet below the sky so wide
I'm hearing things i pretend i understand
Around speakers that are self determined
I'm in the corner of this circle of melodies

To make it clearer is hard to do
They're too healthy, their bones are hard to move
Acceptance of hesitation, a proud hobby to make
When there's an absolute motive, its the alternative they take

Do i need to be blue to be nice
Do i need to learn how to be incorrect
Does it have to be me who does the juggling
Or should we let the constants decide