Who will tell the winkers
that excessive winking makes you blind
now they've gone totally blind as so too their minds

Yet the answer is so simple
for puppets being pulled on red strings
realness knows no prose or rhymes to lift happenings

If truth lives with reasoning's
what better way to proclaim intentions
than reach out with olive leaves and wet dry grounds

If its the age of wisdom
where wills are free and minds ennobled
who but dolts sits on carousel imagining others in twirls

Intelligent empowerment maturity
attractive bed-fellows even better with sincerity
they always know their way home to rest with joy and peace

So keep on spitting in the winds
scrambled minds can imbue their mixed up brew
and grace their spirited delusions in their Cabral of the lame

Those that live near Train tracks
say after a while you stop hearing the constant noise
its blends into winds becoming nothing but vapid white noise

The spinners on the loom
sits in mindless involuntary actions fixated
addicted to motions and movements now automatic
chained and enslaved unable to break free even on days off
" You should never underestimate the predictability of stupidity." !