A corrupted world
Into broken hands
I would hold it by the mirror
Got no time to reflect
On being a reject
Recess is for kids, a court is for children?
How does one court an escort
When all are in discourse?
Course correction
Compass with no direction
Look at the dying light, deep inside
Robots making robots, ironic
The condition is chronic
Until made iconic
My urge to say hello
Replaced with a goodbye
To our world
But not this world
One exists in the mind, the other is realized
Tangible, impregnable, life never misused
Maybe our search for understanding
Has caused more issues