i sat down to write a poem on how the Tao messed up my view
i was to mention that if Yin shot Yang, there was little we could do
and prove that unseen balance could fall on a turn of a *****
for all i saw was cocked and tilted with injustice shot clear through
how, despite my darkness, the nights breath starry hue
and days of rain outnumber the skies of summer blue
while the desert sand replaces the books of Timbuktu
i said, ‘the Tao removes our human passion, and vainly substitutes
a zero sum philosophy, our lives an I.O.U.’
but the words came doubly hard as the forced rhymes flew
i could feel a vague resistance that pulled my thoughts askew  
the tug of the Tao was strong and clear throughout this weak review