Poetic Perspectives

All good poetry should rhyme, 

Or so they say.

There’s no way you’ll ever make a dime,

Or so they say.

I just want to make you mine, 

Now press play.

Gotta steal your time to make up for mine.

Sorry, that’s the way.

Did it ever occur to you that the atoms that make up our bodies are nothing more than an adjudicated, self-immolating  pile of refuse, set out for the sole purpose to create nothingness?

Mystery is history when all and all combine.

Flirtations and salutations are all we’ll be when the planets do align. 

No one knows and no one throws a stone too far away. 

Fear without a real good stout, 

And your mind’s a blank-out they say.

Analyze the situation, find a function, prove it out. Add, subtract, divide, nothing more nothing less. The world can be understood using the tools of Math-e-mat-i-c-s. 

Escape the news, escape the booze, we’ve got to be on our way. 

There’s four score and plenty more idiots here to stay. 

But if you go remember this, and never forget your mind. 

It’s always on time at the end of the line,

And will do you one more good deed. 

There was a man, his name was me, And he is you now. 

He is the one, the all thinking one, who will never let you down.


I wrote this poem a few weeks ago. I think that it says something about the world we live in, hence it is here. Stay tuned for more.

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