Diorama

A tiny world, all mine  
                                       A microcosm, all to myself  

What can I do here?
What do I know?

Is this the lie I’ve been living
Or is it the stand I’ve been dancing

I don’t know what the truth says
Sometimes I run out of ideas for days

It’s alright I whisper through the left
And start the engine before I block out my right

Running from the past to the present
And loitering through my entire future
I keep searching for memories buried
And create new ones in retrieval of many

It’s a small world, my Liege
I call it A Diorama in Beige