Twinkle, Twinkle, little star

You are what you need
from this cosmic measures
called Earth.

Sometimes a fake smile of weakness
straight from the pill factory,
chemical manipulation
by the bloodstained hands
of the gambling scientists
looking for a strange kind of glory.
A vision of accidental implosions
in the valley of tears,
a hermetic stairway
to illusionary substance.

In the meantime the lily is blooming
in total ecstasy in the tortured fields,
right before your broken eyes.

A pound of comedy dynamite
shaking the elements inside an awoken laughter,
twinkle, twinkle, little star, shine!