R=1.5

Reality is a thin veil,
A melting sheet of ice;
I wear my skates untied,
Puckered face uncovered,
A stick to short to matter,
I am forever penalised
For crossing the thin blue line
Too early, to rushed
Is my approach to life;
Reality is a clock expiring,
A ghastly echo of a tick
Without a tock,
A tree without bark
Uprooted, the storm in a cup โ€“
Overflowing; my reality
A thinly veiled matter
Without presence
Or purpose.

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