Wagging Tongue

I wish I were a writer

Who could keep notes

Organize

And present argument longer than a line

But lo!

I am a sponge

Who absorbs the moisture of information

Then rings himself out into the bucket

Of the common mind

But where do I wipe

The fringes from where come discovery?

I’m just so narcissistic in brand

That is what I think

Clearly I use “I” to much to accurately inform

Limiting my speech;

it is selfish understanding.

The sectioning off

The factionalization of reality

Allows us all to be judged;

according to another’s mess

And create battles over righteousness

Each faction believing itself the owners of a “true” future

Yes I’m a believer

By way of inductive understanding

And ancient stories

Nature Nurture too

How easily I am swayed

Because I also believe in you

Another naive believer.

If alone

A believer when you believe

How many hunger?

Who through my action I can feed

What for their future

What choice can we seed?

I’ve hardened my heart towards an ancient harvest thrown to a fire

Seeing fruit in all

A bountiful desire.

Who wants the hardest

I quit thinking “I want” long ago

But those who do know… control

I fear, for with logic, I know what I could do

How does one convince the “haves”

It isn’t profitable; don’t do

If but for 1

It would all be a game

gods they made of themselves

to stay entertained .

It is true I’m a believer

But not over you

For after 1

All else are 2

Me number 3

Never was one for counting

Math don’t suite me

Still thinking of the equation

Which solution can not be

That we idolized ourself

Corrupting function… mathematically .

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