sluzchat geekasm
This poem may contain random, personal thoughts
This here poem is mine; I am calling the shots
Who cares what the fxxk you prefer to ignore?
Who cares what the fxxk you respect or admire?
Four of the eight groups of nine confronted the sky twice
Seventy-two people; thirty-six had the brave guts
Levels within layers rise, and powerful crowns rule
Fingers and lungs bathe in sludge, and passionate souls fail
Left reading the zymoglyphics of metareticulosophy in life
Left lost in the public armpit, surviving anew, and managing to laugh
This poem is a headache waiting to happen for eyes and ears of the redeemed
Who cares if demographics of zombies and goons could ever be ashamed?
Feel free to live in the insulation that keeps you sane
We humans fuss over information we fail to learn
Time’s Chronojectile is one perpetual forward zoom
This post-industrial age induces a primal scream
Smug scribes, have a wild septic party below
Ride waves, make your moves, and live devoid of a clue
Have fun missing self-affirmation’s demise
This poem may contain random, personal thoughts
This here poem is mine; I am calling the shots
Who cares what the fxxk you prefer to ignore?
Who cares what the fxxk you respect or admire?
Four of the eight groups of nine confronted the sky twice
Seventy-two people; thirty-six had the brave guts
Levels within layers rise, and powerful crowns rule
Fingers and lungs bathe in sludge, and passionate souls fail
Left reading the zymoglyphics of metareticulosophy in life
Left lost in the public armpit, surviving anew, and managing to laugh
This poem is a headache waiting to happen for eyes and ears of the redeemed
Who cares if demographics of zombies and goons could ever be ashamed?
Feel free to live in the insulation that keeps you sane
We humans fuss over information we fail to learn
Time’s Chronojectile is one perpetual forward zoom
This post-industrial age induces a primal scream
Smug scribes, have a wild septic party below
Ride waves, make your moves, and live devoid of a clue
Have fun missing self-affirmation’s demise
This poem may contain random, personal thoughts