killing time with shitty poetry

[tedificator]

Composing composition,
composes composure?
That true revolution,
is only true illusion,
To work with words or notes or paint, or iron or wood,
is merely mere man's avoidance of that ruck, his life.
That is no revolt, no escape.
but exposure of man's innate,
for not changes the nature of man.
to be ahead, is still yet behind,
to search, to look, but never find,
our intellect bites off much to chew,
and that, our pride, tough to swallow.
submit to chaos, the life and nature.
and feel see be the simple nurture.