The Roark Stratagem

"Painting things
in black and white
is easy,"
the geriatric grumbled
ducking under the overhead bin.
If he didn't,
he would've hurt his head.
Or would he?
I don't know.
The consideration's too complex
for my cold mind
because I think things
like this:

The difference between a gem and e.g. y
is a matter of scope.
Put it in your mouth,
swish it around.
One tastes like sparkling water
the other, confusion.

"The morning sky
looks grey
every time I wake,"
the child complained
crawling under the covers.
If he didn't,
he would've observed the obvious.
Or would he?
I don't know.
The sight is too strange
for my simple eyes
because I see things
like this:

The difference between a gem and e.g. y
is a matter of scope.
Put it in your mouth,
swish it around.
One tastes like sparkling water
the other, confusion.

"The theme is repeated
because that's what it bares..."
I began.
"Where did that come from?"
She interrupted.
Standing, I smirked,
and turned away.
"Probably Bear Village,
how the hell do I know?"

I'm following the leader,
wherever I may go.