Joseph Monson
A Something Of
In an age of Angst
Yes we are
Forgetting the true living
Does truth evolve
Thru’ the idea of the Idea,
Stubborn humanity
Is it the defects?
What is wrong my dear
Shedding your tears
A sign of the times
Its the problem of it
Relaxation found nowhere
Are some in deceit
Of the putting of it all
Upon us
-And I am a casualty.
Page(s) 15
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