It is no surprise that they rhyme

To the tick of time

The tock of stone on rock

The fear of control and restriction

Threat of power and addiction

With no support down below

For my own thoughts to sprout and grow

All the architects and builders

Silver and gold gilders

Keeping roots in a box

With the ridged unflowing clocks

But time is not a mechanical thing

It flows around in a spiral not ring

It is not something that binds and twines

Instead it weaves and flows in lines

Never ending and spinning in swirls

Round and round like little curls

But when I see the number four

It reminds me of squares that crush the core

Surmounting toy blocks over and over

With the ticks of clocks over and over

Tick tock

Stone rock

Square block

Quartz clock

Roots of square to cube

But since a square multiplied by the root of itself

Makes cube

Two more fears will conclude

The six faces of the die

Across the table it does lie

Myth and Money

Still hold us trapped

Giving power

That is sour

It smells like shit

Running threw all of it

As it runs through our culture

But soon it must rupture

The four fears are over that construct faulty power

To begin time anew and grow only flower.

Flower Power