Wool Poem by Michael Webb

Floating in space
On a perfectly placed planet
Questions raise
As I lay on the hammock
Questions of existence
Of gravity and time
Often dismissed
To the back of the mind
The dark side of the moon
That pulls the tide
Or the truth of the wool
Pulled over our eyes
How could we possibly survive
Not too far and not too close
Orbiting a star
That soon will die
With the power to sustain
All living life
Don't stare to close
It might make you blind
Who really could know
If it is all a lie
When we are taught
Since inception
That the sun always will rise
A new day will come
The truth will be disguised

A tiny planet
In a solar system
In a galaxy
In the universe

We are truly obsolete
Like grains of sand
Between our feet
But our minds understand
Much further than we perceive
Imagine how far fetched
It actually seems
Gravity holds down oceans
As we spin unmercifully
Around and around
But doesn't crush our fragile bodies
How strange does that seem

A tiny planet
In a solar system
In a galaxy
In the universe

We've been to the moon
Or so they have said
But with technology advancing
Why won't we return again
Nasa keeps on dancing
Around answers instead
What kind of lies
Have they planted in our heads

A tiny planet
In a solar system
In a galaxy
In the universe

Horizons are always flat
Like the books that we read
But the earth is round
Or so they have said
But why even ask
What is wrong with your head
The world is a perfect sphere
And you are mindlessly dead

On a tiny planet
In a solar system
In a galaxy
In the universe

Understand
If you listen
To the fallacies
You should think first