By LT Shredder.
The world is flat. The world is small. The world is bound by curving walls. It has three levels (in most places). It has a thousand little spaces. Some are small, and others smaller. (Best avoid them, if you’re taller). Some of them are painted white. Some are dark, and some are bright. Some of them are rarely seen. Some are beige, or seafoam green. Some are quiet, some are loud. Some of them can hold a crowd. Some are empty, shut and locked: Where we keep a burning rock That boils water into steam Which then is used to drive machines: It spins the turbines round and round And keeps the world from shutting down. The world is flat. The world is small. The world has many doors and halls That subdivide the space inside And set the boundaries of my life. It’s where I wake, and where I sleep, Where I work, and where I eat, Where I follow, where I lead, Where I talk, and where I read. Everywhere I go is in it (I walk its length in just three minutes). There’s nothing that is new to see, And everything makes sense to me, Since everything’s the way it seems. —But it is also where I dream, Where I think and where I learn, Where I suffer, where I yearn— Not knowing what I’m yearning for— Where I’m at peace, and yet at war, Where I try with all my might, Where I lie awake at night, Where I laugh, and where I bleed. And what else could I ever need? The world is flat. The world is small. You can’t see through the world’s walls. But as for windows, there are two: Upon a platform painted blue They stand, and when the depth is right (Sometimes by day, sometimes by night) I go and stand, and walk around These windows—and so I have found A secret that I never sought, And even though I’d always thought That all the world was understood, And bad was bad, and good was good, And everything was as it seemed, And real was real, and dreams were dreams— Still I stand, and gaze outside, And what I see can’t be denied: A truth too deep and wide and broad To ever fit within my thoughts— So used to these familiar walls, Where just like me, the world is small. I look and cannot help but see, And though it sometimes frightens me, Still there is nothing I can do, Except acknowledge what is true: The world is round. The world is huge. The world is green and gray and blue. No ends or edges, walls or doors— The world goes on forevermore.
LT Shredder was a submarine officer.
LT Shredder is much happier now.