Circle On The Wall


Why does everything have to mean anything?

Because everything we hold dear

Is fabricated and empty.

I’m a  spec who lives on a sphere.


Morals were made in lab

Which makes us the rats 

With tests to be had

To get shot up with knowledge

And pushed to the ledge

Little do we know that time is the edge


It doesn’t exist

But we can’t resist

And so we persist


To see if we can fly

You wanna touch the “sky”

But it is all a lie

Fed to us by “The Man”

Who’s really just some guy

Who doesn’t have a plan

Yet we build him Versaille 

240 feet high

Tell me why

You can’t deny 

I’m right

I won’t comply

In spite

Of the comfort of the lack of sight


“Value” is an ideal

 So why should i care

“Purpose” isn’t real

It’s not really there

This doesn’t have to rhyme

Because time’s just a circle on the wall


This poem is about: 
My country
Our world



this is beautiful 


this is my athiest mind


god is just political gratitude

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