The assertive voice
Of feigned intelligence
Hazy state, maybe stupor
Numbers that need to be solved
There’s no message
In this mess of words
A trail of trials
Overcame for triumph
That lasts up to the next one
The little errands that’s never done
A canvas thick with colored oils
Painting no picture
Then, a few minutes after ten
Satisfaction seeps in
The voice finds its way
Feigning the senses, as intended
danDAman 