Perceptions

A hunted find;

A fevered cold;

An evil kind;

The secret told;

How odd the mind which couples the two,

My perceptions say these are far and few.

A door that’s locked;

A snake that’s coiled;

A pistol cocked;

And water boiled;

How odd the mind to feel them a tease,

My perceptions say not to fool with these.

The winter dead;

The desert bare;

The young one’s head;

And stagnant air;

How odd the mind where not essential,

My perceptions say these have potential.

Color of skin;

Fam’ly of birth;

Past numbered sins;

Dollars you’re worth;

How odd the mind upholding such clatter,

My perceptions say these shouldn’t matter.