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Youths eyes oversee truth Captained by a world of hatred Too young yet too old A thin line of reality “To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music that words make.” Truman Capote

Thursday, February 11, 2010

VALEN-BULL SHIT!

To bring a bit of reality to the bubbling bull-shit that is Valentines day, here's a poem:

Come deem our civilization

To that it which it wont want to be

A fiction

A fantasy

Immortality

Something that cannot be

Something that will not be

Something that we as ourselves cannot even grasp

Fight to live

Fight to be human

Upgrade

Feed the lives

Feed the ties

Feed the lies

Which hold our humans together

Our Humanoid conspiracies

We refuse to see

Deemed contradictory

Can’t you breath?

Can’t you see?

Touch

Feel

Taste

All the senses

5

6

7

8

6 Billion human beings

One of which will change our lives

Change is in our grasp

Can you touch it?

Can you feel it?

Will you hold out your palm?

Will you raise it?

Reconstitute the destitute

Rebirth our souls

Rebirth our morals

Forget war

Feel the blood on our hands

We are our own bands

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