It's easy to pretend to be this wise owl, dancing around with the words of your mind.

Raising your head to look down on others...oh, you didn't know that that is a poet's kind?

Some forget that a poet's greatest feature is their power to think...

But others will say that that isn't at all true. It's their power to snake around until they've settled down.

A poet's wise moments can be the same as a crow being an omen. Evil in certain settings and simple in others...

Don't use your wisdom as a dagger to shank down your enemies and fuel the worse in humanity...

Don't turn a blind eye to someone or many whose on the brink of insanity...clapping when someone dances in the words of love or nostalgia...vile for poets to even consider it wisdom...


Where is the wisdom inside of a lie...why bother...why?