Scales of an Apothecary

If you see this on Rockstar Alvarez's page, ignore that. Somehow when I originally posted it, he received credit for it. The computer must have switched accounts. I wrote this for a school project.

Teeter-totters with feathers and bricks,

Fulcrums placed to one side's benefit,

Contrasting the side brought back to Earth.

Gravity placed purposely to anchor those trying to rise.

Those anchored dig their graves without self fault,

As strength that was never there is weakened.

False hope in the dream of little boxes;

Not realizing their ticky tacky is falling apart,

But faith remains in a system lacking knowledge.

Oh how those planes have their Birthday Letters,

Removing any fault by them for others' problems.

I'll just call them Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.

But how dearly the panthers bleed,

When the knife slashes the flesh;

May blood be drawn from the ideas of the planes.

Fire never burned so harshly,

As to erase the glory brought from below.

This race for perfection is run by all,

Equally, with no pace set.

Perfection brought from fighting the good fight.

Remember that Yorick only sees us as equals.