The Paraffin One

2014-10-08 12:00 am

A collection of words,
Is nothing but prose,
Until elementary lords,
Teach elementary oppose,
To sophist tradition,
Among kitchen women,
teaching poor renditions,
of the stereotypical even.
A collection of bones,
Is nothing but,
Sophists label rock, and stones,
Confusion between causes rebut, 
Both deny their implied root,
Eventually becoming societies bigfoot.

The Paraffin One

2014-10-08 12:00 am

Depressed, never to make lasting impression.
A denizen of hope to never make the finish.
Yet gladly they have made no procession,
A gentleman leaves, not extincting the fish;
Yet, gladly the simple fish onward,
Unrealized is their colony of cowards,
No love and no goal worked toward,
Fools with lofty goals pulled Earthwards,
Nobody cheers as the people awe.
Nobody cares as the people stand jaw slack.
Nobody leers in care as they're not the law,
Nobody fares well, so they want old law back.

However the rulebook of old is lost.
Common sense now too far past is post.