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Meek Little Things

April 9, 2019

The shambles of thine own powers persuade the anti-social nature of my being.
Not to push away nor provide an answer for my own reasoning.
It’s a farce of societal woes that govern our judicial sentiment.
Yet, here we are. Fighting for what we’re supposed to fight for.
The ever watching eyes, whether it be man, God, or Cathulu.
Waves are broken for the mere respect of our own hubris.
Light shines in one’s own eyes, focused on what could be seen rather than what is there.
It leaves the focal point in the bright darkness and the superfluous supercilious.

The break of the waves gathers the attention
and the wind and gravity are ignored.
For what iteration is it meaningful?
The apparent has no bearing on what’s real anymore.

Systems, hypocrisy, and fragile flakes subside for an actual meeting of the minds,
but we can’t have that- life is to damn idiotic and the weak is trying to muster a feigned offense
to what is happening in this week, and this week has been pretty damn stupid
and yet here we are maintaining an effort that was uncalled for
in an untimely attempt that was meant to adorn the meek,
because in this effort they think you’re unskilled enough to stand for yourself-
and that your skills are so off par that you couldn’t possibly understand that you’re being made fun of.

The attention gathers the negative concept in most individuals,
yet their opinions aren’t expressed.
The loudest have an audience
despite the fact that they’re saying nothing that relates to the masses.


From → Poems

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