Twenty fifth of the second and you’ll hear me say:

What’s the difference between empathy or play.

We play with emotions,
We play with the sounds,
alleviating all others,
wills with our mouths.

Our opinion is certainly,
something we have.
But to share it instantly,
Is just too alpha man.

Someone who thinks,
after they feel.
Might get a chance,
to make right their real.

Since many a word,
are under the stress.
Of working out which one,
double meanings suppressed.

I’d wholeheartedly agree,
with sympathy in mind.
But empathy sucks,
are just attempts at being kind.

Only serve to fuel,
my resolve at last.
That your making a game,
swirling up all the past.

But we all know,
the futures in mind.
To enjoy to moment,
and better learn to be kind.

So what the world needs now,
is real anti-Christ.
I think were ready,
I think we’d watch twice.

Tell people,
to remove their heads.
From their arseholed entrails.
Too bad if their deads.

Let the people know,
we don’t give a shit.
They can poo through a needle,
for weve I’ve been hit.

Want to wear your heart on sleeve?
not develop your own – sets of reprieves.
We did it for women,
now roll up your sleive.

We did it for slaves,
We did it for pirates.
We did it for aliens,
Even for Pontius Pilot.

Oy vay,
my God,
How small is that,
the world we live in – some people call flat.

How quick,
it works,
It’s out of control,
unless your a god in his little own world.

A little space,
a little time,
A little effort,
put into a rhyme.

Its only a formula,
rooted in time.
That’ll appeal to some,
others think it a crime.

You might think,
left wing of me.
But right’s been my,
whole history.

you swing full bout,
Having reversing around,
In your confused and doubt.

But eventually,
you’ll see the truth.
As stark and honest,
and a sore old tooth.

And see – how all,
is connected to thee.
Through words and actions,
some make us see.

Entrenched in reason,
They’ll say is true.
But unless you’ve gone right back,
There’s only a few.

For a millions years,
we’ve been under development.
Heading to a time,
where your heads been enveloped.

The banging and crashing,
The sighs and the drawls.
The head heading down,
to checkout the floors.

But to be perfectly honest,
I do a disservice.
I write and prepare,
instead meditate in earnest.


A kookaburra
woke me up,
the sound of a mirth,
reminds me of a A.

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