Gangland War
Somehow,
we found argot of our own..
eclectic continuity,
no frivolous gibberish,
absconding ..
the maladroit slang,
of our youth of no reverie..
we found the aperture,
of renaissance as we grow..
like vines toward light
Our youth,
such skeptics
and sloths!
Never exposed..
to Emerson, Thoreau,
Picasso, Van Gogh..
Society
accomplice,
anarchistic youth..
Not even cognizant..
killing their own,
in their sycophantic
gangland war..
No enlightenment..
no glory,
no Satori...
Just dead..
only a bullet,
left in their head...
we've made them
our effigy!
we found argot of our own..
eclectic continuity,
no frivolous gibberish,
absconding ..
the maladroit slang,
of our youth of no reverie..
we found the aperture,
of renaissance as we grow..
like vines toward light
Our youth,
such skeptics
and sloths!
Never exposed..
to Emerson, Thoreau,
Picasso, Van Gogh..
Society
accomplice,
anarchistic youth..
Not even cognizant..
killing their own,
in their sycophantic
gangland war..
No enlightenment..
no glory,
no Satori...
Just dead..
only a bullet,
left in their head...
we've made them
our effigy!
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