A "prose" of daily life—plain, curt, and bare—
Chopped in lines like verses—rhythm? Nowhere.
Lacking rhyme or passion, dull as faded ink.
Yet the likes keep coming—trolling, don’t you think?

Who are all these readers? Fellow hacks, it seems.
Praising one another, lost in empty dreams.
Fools embrace the madness—nonsense, rotten, cheap.
True art lies forgotten, buried fast and deep.

What about the Poets?
Nowhere to be found.
Drowned in waves of drivel,
Lost without a sound...