Nothing to It

Fuck em all then

I think I know, this flow

Nothing in control

Just dynamically hollowed


Tomorrow, sorrow? Or just a beat

To another person’s seat

Fuck you, shut up, repeat


Nothing original, all remembered

Esoteric material collected

Then produced neglected

You are so mad at yourself

You can’t even see your static wealth

That comes and helps your higher up

Well come in look, but you aren’t strep

Shut up


Nothing but the flow

You gonna go betwixt the hollow

You are gonna be executed

O my god, another reason convoluted


He runs the game, thinks he doesn’t know

But Master Mind game players are slower

Than the lightning blasts of now here power

Residue left over from the thunder

But it’s another day, another look

Another book, another song

Nothing new just taken from another’s throng


O god? O god? O my God?

Wait, why am I talking to myself…



About up2quark

I rest with silence and awareness; believing in hope for a brighter future, I feel compelled to write any words that excite me in the spontaneous moments in life! So this is my work; hope you enjoy my musings.
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