The Disease Of Is

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The what of what, the who of who

The why of why, the no of know,

The distance set by one or two,

How to forget the me and you.

All must comply with curiosities

Of genuines and pomposities.

Like the eye of I and pigs that fly.

Philosophies can ossify

These weary queries that deny

In endless try. Scraping earth and sweeping by

The end of up past the sky.

Mourning morning does not play

Exigencies of the day to soften,

Squeeze unease or disarray.

The detrimental fundamentals often say

The opposites of what they mean

But one must take what one can glean

Underneath or inbetween

What is hidden, what is seen.

 

 

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