In the duskiest of unlit rooms the fortunate dim
tremble at the complexity of understanding
discarding prescription glasses for mantras and elixirs
hoping to finally see no more evil
forgetting entirely that whatever they observe on the outside
is only a reflection of what was on the inside
the shadow is the playground for the half grown
the soundbites are the soundtracks of the unknown
the wisdom of the ancients is long gone and has been torn through
in the dampest, darkest, duskiest of unlit rooms
we think we know and so we go about doing the dumbest of shit
high-fiving and co-signing ignorance just to fit in with the vanity of bliss
coughing and wheezing into their paper crowns
hands up when it doesn’t matter and when it does, hands down
desperate naked creatures standing tall ignoring the sky
hoping they don’t die, and I can’t figure out why…

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