the only knowledge

the memory of time is in my eyes
it crawls over my brain like a louse
it fills every corner of this house
who says otherwise just plain lies
we've come beyond stables and sties
knowledge enough will fill a mouse
but not to make it cheer or carouse
we feed ourselves on empty pies
no need to mention what came first
the knowledge or the end of pain
it never matters at the very end
we could assume only the worst
but that will be after the long rain
and much we see will thereon depend