poem

Knowledge Behind Bars

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This room is a cube, imagine.
Thinking beyond that cube is a sin,
I wonder why they do what they do
Like they say for those who
Want knowledge sincerely,
Or those who make them wealthier regularly?
What is shared here, wisdom or just shortcuts;
Deals that destroy your very guts?

The dusty corridors the ghosts abandoned,
In the midst of chaos, they leave you stranded –
Against their promises and assurances.
They’ll only widen your differences.
The deities of the orthodox world they built,
The course of the river never in the hands of the silt.
Your life defined by their rules, and terms.
Your thoughts, and food infected by their worms.
The seed of fear they will have sown,
And since then you shall never own,
That life you thought was yours,
Those choices you thought were yours.
Your true self , never again will you find.
For once in, you’ll be trapped in your own mind.

They’ll feed you sciences from beyond the stars,
But what use of such knowledge behind bars?

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poem

Tick Tock

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Tick tock, tick tock
The hand races round the clock.
Your senses screaming red and blue
Piercing through the dead afternoon.
Wait is all but what you can do,
For it will arrive no time soon.
How you wish you could change its gear,
Take a U-turn or go in reverse,
But it will never wait to hear,
Keeps running for the better or worse.
Loosen up and let it drive.
Should you resist its course,
You will be left behind till you revive.
For its friction is too strong a force.
And the hand will continue its race round the clock,
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

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