In our head a million souls on stilts

wrapped up in dura matter insulation quilts

First came books to impede with seed

Heads with logic, no imagination indeed

Trained brain cells weary of the hard spines

Stories woven with seams instead spread lies

A tapestry of dreams wrapped in hard wings

Turning into dragon with thin silk tongue

Licking readers fingers to break captive

For now the minds logic runs barefoot in a maze

With magical mystical storytelling ways

Like a weed in our brain a tree roots new paths clear

Which made those stilt strutting souls lose the fear

Although too many circuits in the NYC of your soul

Epicenter stimuli to put to bed

Maybe eternal stuck in my rotting head

Life’s real joke is we create our own hell

A logical bitchslap came the greed with th seed

In over stimuli orgy electricity turned literature

Into a dial we kept turning with no need

to ressed the impede of retrained, restrained

Wings bound in knots of illiteracy 

Spines broken by scholars with smirks raping dream

Now two souls equal one ego walking a tight beam

Wrapped up in dura matter nothing is felt

Stiltless single file zombies on a conveyor belt

Imprisoned head 

Creativity Dead

Broke Unfed

No lead like bullet in head so like sheep of interweb

Dick in hand

       Social Media Led

Society and ignorance wed to heed the seed

Isn’t it time we let social media bleed?

       

 

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