Petty poets posting pretty poems,
accuracy along amateur accords.
I insinuate ill idealism-
what weakness with weary words.
Modern merry most malignant;
such shame shimmering shallow skin.
Too tangled to tighten true thought;
pain punctures pure pride, prompting post-riot.
Lacking lunacy, lone logic-
would we want what withering world?
Becoming bored by building blocks.
Growing gotten, given guides, gratitude grounded; Gods gold...?
Cold, cannot call
Freezing for flying, fall failed
Only outsiders off-limits on open Oceans;
run, run, rough roads rolling rocky rails.
Viewing vast variables;
yours yearns yanking.
Doubling down - downright dirty,
feel fowl for faking.