I see your future in the lines of your hand,
In the bits in your teacup,
In the mess on your plate,
In the hair on your head,
In your prints in the sand,
Whether in here or a faraway land,
Your destiny pushes,
Your fate is quite sealed,
Your end is foreseen,
Your life without “And”,
Within the next day,
You’ll wretch and you’ll heave,
It’s a gut-wrenching act,
By the cook who did leave,
The bathroom,
(There was no soap),
Within the next week,
You will break a toe,
It’s a karmic response,
To the lie that you told,
To your parents,
About who shaved the cat,
Within the next month,
You will take a nap,
It’s a magical time,
That turns into a trap,
You won’t miss the interview,
Unless the alarm doesn’t work,
Within the next year,
You will break a heart,
You won’t make that phone call,
To your secret love,
Who will marry,
But, not you.
Within the next decade,
You will be in heaven,
I don’t mean the hereafter,
But Seven Eleven,
Where you jones daily,
For a five gallon Slushie,
Within the next century,
Who’s gonna care?
Cognitive Failure 