Meaningless Wanderer


Your lips open to unfold foolish words, vulgar and distasteful.

you believe you are a scholar, a philosopher, you are not.

You understand nothing of life, you care not for anyone but yourself.

You hold your nose up into the sky and walk past the life around you.

You do not observe beauty, you do not observe grace. 

Your eyes simply scrutinize its surface, wiping it clean of its innocence.

When will you learn? Perhaps when you halt your tongue.

Be quiet.


Guide that inspired this poem: 


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