Substantively we’re hollow
coarsely callow and pampered,
we’ve hampered our advancement
and enhancement through the languor
and the anger that’s our creed.
It all seems so uncertain,
like a curtain separating,
obfuscating an objective
and effective way to buffer
how we suffer and succeed;
but who am I to query,
form a theory or conclusion,
my confusion makes me wary
and contrary to the notion
that commotion fills a need.
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