I spend all my time Preaching to devils Who would never understand A couldn't care in the first place Ego is not a part of my ploy Unless of course Trying to show someone a light Is egotistical But Really Sadly Painful as it seems Disdainful as the schemes Forgotten as the dreams That once held this heart afloat No No one No one really cares
And then
Why should I?
Poetry is devolving in front of my eyes, I fight as I might to not be cynical. But this is a community, and I don't want any part. It can be art, doesn't mean that its good. This is a plea