Pisaries Creator

A copycat of conventional wisdom,

On the surface below the dimming light,

A sage unlike yourself,

Growing tall in the sidewalk weeds.

Ask a question of right and wrong,

A lasting impression of your face,

We are like the others, you say,

Nothing is unique about us.

What rhythms have you found

Under the belly of the dead, I ask.

The repeated words used in stupidity,

Not too bright for a scholar from far away,

A race is to be won,

Where sharp knowledge can be real,

Cut your teeth on the pages,

Bloody your gums right up.

Hear more clearly and lean in,

The new sounds of freedom, you say,

Fake as it might be,

Learning for a good reason.

This alternative takes much longer,

Don’t see the end result,

It’s not of my doing, I say,

Going outside our boundaries.

Oceans are repetitive waves,

We can’t see beneath the sand,

I know we are free to roam,

But the gust is not strong enough.