We can't make this sentence anymore
where we distrust the instinct of seeking intellect
Where it's imperative to refrain from restorative means
where life seems like we are always out of time
Where we ask : Am I me or am I them
and if I am you,
Can I still be me?
Where understanding is one parallel universe away
this float
atomic
time delay
repercussions breed
Where only trifles and panic and abhorrence fuel
black tar pit boil surface seems to be
I don't know what I am saying
But I know that what I am saying is what I am feeling
and if I meditated in slow breathing
would I find the peace of an absolute abhorrence
towards action to premeditate
and not premeditate to action
are we always in constant study
or have we forgotten how to love
with least damages done
Now so wild and free
the poetry seems to be
like every other generation turned out to feel
Not this Time
where the impression is a near got fear
always feeling all alone
Enterprise without sell out tag
seems to be pot of gold at the edge of the cliff
driving towards it a million miles per hour
watching those around you
pick man fall, pick woman car type
pick clothes best seem to fit
telling me how ungrateful
I seem to be
feeling wrapped in coils of scorching factory
maintenance plumber is all I can be
Foil seems unwrap
foiling tendencies for privacy soil
plant another tree
plant another beehive mentality
Nay! sounds this tone
Nay! I'm listening to cries of
unlikely war
likely as it be
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