Stone-Filled Pie Poem by Christopher Andrew

Sum four pins hold a poster on my wall.
Trust in Newton, the poster won't fall.
Paper and ink,
Our world I think.
I manage my rhymes,
don't make no dimes.

...

But ultimately I want...

is a focused head.
A direction instead, .
of floating above my floors ...

on a bed,
or is it an at-night-waiting-stead?
Waste should go through local sewage doors.

Someone! Please care for me.
No one! Really cares for me.

...

All I get is a stupid bet,
that a lie might cure my cry.
They say their words, meanings blurred,
that care is a stone-filled pie.