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Poetry: You don't fit

Updated on February 06, 2009
Mortal
Mortal

Consciousness

 

Why are you here, oh mortal

With your words so constantly flowing

And your thought so filled with knowing

Of things you know nothing about.

Always busy pleading,

But never really needing

To know what's here about

You pray for this

And you pray for that

Always knowing where it's at

Yet when I remind you in your thought,

You shout and tell me what you bought

At some shop with all its glitter

Making sure that you're no fitter

In the plan of times so bitter.

 

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