The Miles: iron chains on my arms
Squeezing in rusted pains of restraint
Unrelenting from morning till morning
Disguised as health and adorning

Sentries of reason bind my mind
Endorsed by majority rules
Survival of the most attractive
In dreamland never enacted

Pretty flower, muscled bee:
Fated to dance eternal
While the dandelions turn to seed -
Fruitfully fruitless, the hopeful weed

For what cause is sufficient?
Equality never sings;
Yearnings never answered
Give voice to troubled things

In my small world of wonder
The price of gold is high
My pocket's nearly empty
Precious little I can buy