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“I can believe things that are true
and things that aren't true
and I can believe things
where nobody knows
if they're true or not. 

I can believe in Santa Claus
and the Easter Bunny
and the Beatles
and Marilyn Monroe
and Elvis
and Mister Ed.
Listen -
I believe that people are perfectable,
that knowledge is infinite,
that the world is run
by secret banking cartels
and is visited by aliens
on a regular basis,
nice ones
that look like wrinkled lemurs
and bad ones who mutilate cattle
and want our water and our women. 

I believe that the future *****
and I believe that the future rocks
and I believe that one day
White Buffalo Woman is going to come back
and kick everyone's ***.
I believe that all men
are just overgrown boys
with deep problems communicating
and that the decline
in good *** in America
is coincident
with the decline in drive-in movie theaters
from state to state. 

I believe that all politicians
are unprincipled crooks
and I still believe that they are better
than the alternative.
I believe that California
is going to sink into the sea
when the big one comes,
while Florida
is going to dissolve into madness
and alligators
and toxic waste. 

I believe that antibacterial soap
is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease
so that one day
we'll all be wiped out by the common cold
like martians in War of the Worlds. 

I believe that the greatest poets of the last century
were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis,
that jade is dried dragon *****,
and that thousands of years ago
in a former life
I was a one-armed Siberian shaman. 

I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars.
I believe that candy
really did taste better when I was a kid,
that it's aerodynamically impossible
for a bumble bee to fly,
that light is a wave and a particle,
that there's a cat in a box somewhere
who's alive and dead
at the same time
(although
if they don't ever open the box
to feed it
it'll eventually just be
two different kinds of dead),
and that there are stars in the universe
billions of years older
than the universe itself. 

I believe in a personal god
who cares about me
and worries
and oversees everything I do.
I believe in an impersonal god
who set the universe in motion
and went off to hang with her girlfriends
and doesn't even know
that I'm alive.
I believe in an empty and godless universe
of causal chaos,
background noise,
and sheer blind luck. 

I believe that anyone
who says *** is overrated
just hasn't done it properly.
I believe that anyone
who claims to know what's going on
will lie about the little things too. 

I believe in absolute honesty
and sensible social lies.
I believe in a woman's right to choose,
a baby's right to live,
that while all human life is sacred
there's nothing wrong with the death penalty
if you can trust the legal system
implicitly,
and that no one but a *****
would ever trust the legal system. 

I believe that life is a game,
that life is a cruel joke,
and that life is what happens
when you're alive
and that you might as well
lie back and enjoy it.”

She stopped,
out of breath.
Found poem. From American Gods by Neil Gaiman.
SassyJ Mar 2016
As I sit on this assigned desk
ears drooling with institution gel
I swirl on the seat, the wind pause
Musing in evangelised dilemmas

Lobotomised to jerking veracities
Sagacity amateurs boost egos
Stooping and stooging in asylums
Barricading others progression

Regressed losing solid grounds
Jurisdictional custodial supervisions
An infused scent of propagandism
Scenes of robotic observational modelling

Unprincipled to insist on another destiny
Calculating targeted risked predictions
Regulated to invigilate and unroll a matrix grid
Who am I? To forge his,her or their trench
Samantha Sep 2018
I’m fighting a ******* battle
The devil’s on my shoulder
Whispering to me like the sharp whistling breeze before a storm

Revenge seduces my mind
A true salesman
Giving his final pitch before he takes all that you have

Karma, you devious woman
Pass me the baton
So that I can pay a visit to the unprincipled *****

But then there’s the angel – so ethereal, so divine
You penetrate my mind like a sword piercing an enemy’s heart
With your unclouded light tickling my judgement

The darkness and the bright
Jousting at each other in barbarous combat
Both hungry for the win

Victory is yet to be claimed...



sa
27.9.18
Geraldine Taylor Jun 2017
To be rebuilt, to be restored, to re-establish broken walls

Of former gates now rising up, to them that will rejoice

On assignment from the palace

Nehemiah of noble rank

With zest and zealous zeal

A great work to begin, relinquish finding fault

Continue the consigned course, even if by force

A purposeful quest, yet enemies seek to oppress

Chosen people of Jerusalem

Their aim to hinder

To turn our plans to cinders, of ruin again

Aside from jeers and jokes, we evoke the passion inside

From such a purpose as this

For Nehemiah here to rebuild, not to rebel

To hear of enemies plans, such work began

Armed hands of spears and swords

Guarding watchmen day and night, to then distract, a covert act

To call him away, an unprincipled trip, good intentions not

Yet passing times, forward seasons

Gave no reason, for continued up-rise

No scheme or lies, could dissolve desire

Nor cause delay

Gathered rules, with listening intent

Help the people, re-join and restore customs, not law

Promising years, place heathen aside, do not idolise

A Saviour will return

The writings of Malachi

A faithful prophet, of faithful words



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Brian McDonagh Aug 2019
I hate it,
Firmly hate it,
And have hated it,
When I feel I have to answer
For people constantly.
Once is fine,
But a thousand needs a heavier
Addressing.

Arms folded,
People look around the room,
Nothing happens.
Don't we realize
We have more power
Than the scary proctor's
Presence?

People, listen.
Me, listen.
If you think you're going
To passively make a difference
In life,
You're *******.

No one wants to get in trouble,
It's a psychological withdrawal from privilege
As much as physical.

But think of all the people who "got in trouble"
To make history what it is.
Wouldn't you agree that most historical
And acclaimed/notorious events
Around the world
Took place
Because someone
"Got in trouble"?

If Jesus didn't "get in trouble",
Would Christians and Jesus-followers
Feel the faith of salvation
As strongly
Had Jesus not thought his words through?

Would Nelson Mandela
Have sent a message
To the apartheid crisis
Had he not
"Gotten in trouble,"
Handing over
Most of his rightful life's longevity?

Would protestors
Have overthrown rules
And unprincipled ideas
Or even made new ideas known
Had they not
"Gotten in trouble?"
****** revolution,
Women's rights,
Addressing racism,
Achieving justice from unruly assassinations,
World War II,
Kent State shooting.

Would brilliant minds and workers
Have achieved their roles in life
Had they not experienced
"Troublesome" times?

It's important to get in trouble,
Rather, most times,
It's the only way to a resolution.
If we never stole that cookie
From the cookie jar,
Yelled at mom or dad,
Failed to study,
Called someone a nasty name,
Fussed over mom or dad
Helping to dress us in early years,
Misspelled words,
Missed goals
Like soccer, basketball, football
Goals.
If we never drove
Along a road restricted,
If we never hopped a fence,
Tossed a ball in a neighbor's yard.
If we never procrastinated,
If we never cost our team(s)
The game, the victory.
If we never felt behind,
Overslept, dragged.
If we never whined about work,
People, transportation, relaxation,
If we never pouted about not getting
What was desired,
Or if someone forgot what we said,
Or the other way around
In however long of a time span.
If we never admitted...

Now this can be the biggest trouble:
Keeping reserved can alter time
In larger ways than we realize.
Point being, if life were perfect
Up to a certain point in time,
Then no one would know
How to react positively
To an error.
One of the underrated reasons
Why all the good things are
How they are
Is because of errors
Molded over time.

People will react
To reactions
As if they shouldn't have happened:
"Why are you crying? Stop crying!"
"Quit arguing with me!"
Yeah, I've had emotions come out
Plenty of times.
But I don't want to care if people look at me the same or not,
Change comes in many forms,
And change isn't always pleasant

Errors are obviously obvious
Everywhere.
But how can we know how each of us thinks
If there's no conflict or tension?
I am not saying I am for trouble,
Just find peace in troubles of all sizes.
Maybe we/I should come back to the basics more often
To understand the trouble sort of peace.
I hate being embarrassed or feeling that way. I know it's a human way of reacting, but I've erred over a billion times by now. Shouldn't I feel different?
GoldenBoii Aug 2015
They call me:..

Chuckleheaded Snollygoster

a.k.a

Blockhead Unscrupulous Individual

a.k.a

Doltish Unprincipled Human-being

a.k.a

Dull Conscienceless Organism


I just call myself:..


a Stupid Person!
A rhetorical question finds me ask
king (to no one in particular) why I bask
with recollection the names of blank
exclamatory staid grade school crank

key teachers approximately
     42,0480,000 breaths aye drank
fifty years ago (most whose names frank
lee listed below),

     when the need to access
and retrieve
     immediate necessary information
     analogously interleaved

     among coaxial bracts
during examinations relegated
     as hopelessly lost
     into interstitial invisible cranial cracks

irretrievably buried
     during examinations, which age
(feels like a million years ago)
     often found me seized and caged
with sudden inability to remember

     any vital answers as gauged
evidenced by nothing writ
ten on paper (even including my name),
     thus loosely similar as aye sit
to compose poetry,
     and/or prose tempted to quit

asper defeated by resignation,
     and sinking sensation in the pit
of my stomach (more so regarding orbit
ting like an unsound garden  

     black hole son around cold (mit
ten necessary) awful days grudgingly
     handing over like a lit
till insignificant being,
     a test paper devoid of academic grit

analogously surrendering
     (while feeling fit
tubby tied, sense internally emit
ting abnegation sans chafing at the bit,

yet no sooner did buzzer indicated test
time over, then (of course),
     an instantaneous pest
that blocked chunk dramatically
     flowered gloriously invoking nest

head treasured mother lode
     of learned information invest
ment accounting for principle ball lanced
     formerly figuratively barricaded facts
     suddenly at my behest

ironically retaining to this day
dogged details amazingly,
     now gracing lix spittle fist size gray
dictating academic failure

     forcing laying down pen hay
for ma forgotten requisite thoughts may
king skepticism about self thrive, ray
zing mailer demons impossible to slay,

when into scaly claws, sans first
to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout, Missus Shaner,
or Miss Rinderle).

Invariably the majority
     of elementary grades didst accord
accredited ancient authenticated creatures bored
(with exception of sixth)

     freely exercised diabolical chord
churlish ******* animalistic
     zealous yakking, wickedly,
     aye (a basket case) deplored

unprintable (epithets) this then
     (unprincipled urchin) puny pupil felt lord
did over whacked, sans receiving end,
     viz fiendishly gruesome
     hellish instructions mean teacher scored.

Assignments buttressed with ultimatums
harkening back to Jurassic period earlier
in the dawning primate consciousness.

Lesson material kindled justifiable license
in league garnered insignia heft brought pupils
to heal predicated, via warped weft woven
wonderfully wrought writs welcomed whips
with warranty whenever recalcitrant ruffian
refused respecting reptilian rubric representative
saber rattling, where...

(The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver
of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will
Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do),
which loosely rendered regularly warbled

wishy washy verse curmudgeons freedom
granted to interpret as one decrepit, hawkish
insignia certified one beaming Eve and/or
stud deed brute soffit.

Education often relied on the weekly reader,
and letters to or from Aunt Emma to this Jack,
oh napeswho never wrote back
sheesh, alas and alack.

Nefarious mean linkedin kickstarter jawboning
torturous treatment tolerated, asper imps
of pervert, mutant Ninja Turtles duty bound
antsy youthful yokel yodelers weathering ululating
sing-song quintessential precepts.

adieu:
math a hew
scott harris a gentile Jew
all ways felt like new
kid on the block isolated

     in his hermetically sealed queue
pay perm ash shay watched per view
whew
at last in conk clew shun to you
from one primate within the human zoo.
A rhetorical question finds me asking
(to no one in particular) why I recall
the names of grade school teachers
approximately fifty years ago (whose
names listed below), when the need

to retrieve necessary information due
ring examinations (less time ago)
often found me seized with sudden
inability to remember any vital ants
sirs (even including my name), thus

grudgingly handing over blank test paper
analogously surrendering a vital
document gracing terms of defeat
into the scaly claws (zen nay), sans

first to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout,
Missus Shaner, or Miss Rinderle).

Invariably majority of first thru
sixth grade accorded accredited
ancient authenticated creatures.
They freely exercised diabolical

churlish ******* animalistic zeal
us yakking, wickedly unprintable
upon (unprincipled urchin) at
receiving end of fiendishly grue
some hellish instructions. Assign
ments buttressed with ultimatums

harkening back to Jurassic period
earlier in dawning primate con
sciousness. Lesson material kindled
with justifiable license in league
with garnered insignia. Heft

to bring pupils to heal predicated
via warp and weft woven wonder
fully. Wrought writs welcomed
whips with warranty whenever
recalcitrant ruffian refused

respecting reptilian rubric repre
sentative rattling (The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser Than the Driver of
the ***** and Whipping Cords

Will Serve You More Than Ropes
Will Ever Do), which loosely
rendered regularly warbled
wishy washy verse curmudgeons
freedom granted to interpret

as one decrepit, hawkish insignia
certified one beaming Eve and/
or stud deed brute soffit. Education
often relied on the weekly reader,

and letters to and/or from Aunt
Emma. Nefarious mean linkedin
kickstarter jawboning torturous
treatment tolerated, asper imps

of the pervert, mutant Ninja
Turtles duty bound antsy
youthful yokel yodelers
weathering ululating sing-song
and quintessential precepts.
Pentecostals preach that Catholical Godhead prayer is a passing fad
that will render the demonic souls of paederastical Jesuit popes sad
as prelude to the worst economic collapse that our world's ever had
▒█▀▀▀ ▒█▄░▒█ ▒█▄░▒█     ▒▒ █▒ █▀▀▀█
▒█ ▒▒▒▒█▒█▒█ ▒█▒█▒█     ▒▒ █ ░ ▀▀▀▄▄
▒█▄▄▄ ▒█░░▀█ ▒█░░▀█     ▒▒ █ ▒ █▄▄▄█

FAKE NEWS!
Atheistic beneficent credo,
dogmatically evokes fundamental
gnostic humanistic invocations,
joyously kickstarting literary

métier, native oeuvre
pulsating quintessentially,
rudimentary schema
traversing utilitarian vectors,
winsomely xing yore zen.
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *    
     boastfulness, haughtiness, pomposity....,
     nor beg for any red cent
though methinks housing,
     donning, adopting...,
     a mephistophelian air proffers
     more beneficial cree dent
     shills, especially when combined
     with healthy dose

     of chutzpah fosters invincible
     unprincipled dogmatic elan,
     finessing, gilding,
     and honing event
chew wool machiavellian
     braggadocio with fervent
sea, sans this generic,
     kinetic, and laconic (ha)

     of Lix orbitz (around
     sun) dry gent,
who downplays his aptitude,
     cerebral enlightenment,
     and native intelligent
potential, cuz humility more
     appealing to me,
     asper applicably analogous

     with demeanor of Clark Kent
than (say...) disreputable, horrible,
     and lamentable disposition
     blatantly evinced
     by mal level lent
quasi metaphorical pyromaniac
     igniting proxy wars meant
to dispel any shadow of a doubt,

     that trumpeting self righteous
     privileged machismo coven nant
only allows, enables, and
     strictly provides access of
     materialistic trappings
     (such as opulent
metaphorical arena i.e. on par
     with Mar-a-Lago Club pent

house suite), and vamoose
     with dirt poor dill link quint
     (viz Matthew Scott Harris),
     he hook can barely pay rent
(true not "FAKE"), where moost
     of his measly money spent
(albeit on the bare necessities,
     which social security

     disability allowance
     (monthly) support, may force him,
     and the missus
     out in the cold
     shivering in a tent,
or he may forego
     surviving (like Euell Gibbons)
     on wild roots, bark,

     berries...(shelving) camping,
     and scout out
     a prime heating vent
most like in the
     city of brotherly love
     after poverty doth reign
     nasty, short and brutish

     suffocatingly crush,
     extinguish flickr of hope,  
     and flush away optimism
     every fibre of mine existence
     from within this decrepit body
     life source runneth went.
Surprised3ye Apr 2020
When I was young I
met a circus performer.
I was interested in finding out
how he learned to
ride a unicycle. I blurted
out the question anxious for
his response. He looked me
in my eyes and replied. Life
is about balance. Never
be so righteous that you become
a judge-mental holy roller,
but also don't be unprincipled
lacking morals taking advantage
of the good hearted. I sat
there puzzled and still to this
day I don't know how to ride
a Unicycle, but that lesson
taught me how to be a decent
and understanding human being.
Travis Green Dec 2022
Your robust seductive voice allures me
Takes me to the greatest depths of extraordinary euphoria
Makes me so gung ** about your smoking
And soul-rocking hotness, chocolate-macho Romeo
Luscious muscled seductiveness, dangerous and luminous movingness

Your exquisite, thrilling beauty is so highly collectible
And pleasurable, creatively treasured majesticness
Confident reverent finesse king, resplendent
With mean supreme dreaminess
I love gawking at your top-notch stalwart body

The way you flex your **** manly pecs
Your attention-grabbing abs, your monstrous unrelenting arms
Crash-hot swagged-out magic splash
So beardtastic and thugtastic, so passionate and spectacular
You make me gasp when you grasp your unmatched savage shaft

Slow stroke it; make me wanna ******* it
Spit on it; make me wish to lick it up
Speak slick, filthy language; make me hanker
To be surrounded by your divine presence
Glide in your fiery wild vibe, intertwined with your invitingness

Nothing parallels your amorous blazing straightness
The way you press your hands against your smooth sinewy *****
Make addictive, exalted sounds that excite my mind
Make me hunger to jump on your monster-pumping gut stick
Ride your ****, feel your divide my insides

Spank my silken voluptuous backside
Let your hands cling to my luscious scrumptious lady humps
Command me, entrance me, take me into your wonderfully
Hypnotic and sparkling mantuary, render me susceptible
To your incredible eclectic heavenliness

And as you flog your long, rock-solid log
Moaning just the way I like it, breathing sexually
You move your delectable flexing muscles
Exhibiting your slick-*** manhood
Such a hypnotizing wild thing
An unprincipled licentious dream lover

You talk naughty evocative words
You fall into the brilliant, relentless rhythm
Of your deliciously wicked masculinity
Your oiled and prominent limbs tremble as you reach a tremendously
Sensuous and mind-bending crescendo
And crank out a mad fat load all over your dope macho abs
More'n ten thousand leagues under the sea
next to an octopus's garden in the shade.

OceanGate manufacturer
of the Titan Submersible,
which vessel that set out to reach
Titanic shipwreck with five passengers
officials believe the suffered
a “catastrophic implosion”
apt analogy to mein kampf.

Major tsuris, the loss of innocent lives
or being robbed blind
for seventeen thousand
five hundred buck a roos
alias Harvey Specter,
(a professional hacker and scammer
lurking in the deep dark Internet,
who turned hand over fist lucrative income
at my expense
courtesy cyber currency bitcoin)
bad karma will catch
the *******.

Though yours truly
feels thoroughly wretched
regarding forsaken finances,
yes when put in perspective
with the former
aforementioned horrendous catastrophe
(regarding irreparable loss of life),
I a fetchodit father figure
feels fraught with fractured psyche.

Wanton wickedness wrought
tears me lovely bones taut
remuneration desperately sought
dollars hacked with place value ought,
thus will to remain stayin' alive naught
wily weasel rendered remote control
with slickly polished shambolic
**** and bull story sinister caught
sense and sensibility of said scribe
twas worse fate than death,
I would rather my soul
to the devil bought.

Cyber sea awash with uproarious,
rapacious, opprobrious, laborious,
industrious, ferocious, carnivorous...
beasts cannibalistic traits yield
atrocious, deleterious, hellacious,
malicious, tenacious..., lawlessness
triumphantly imbuing reckless gullibility
unabashedly unleashing unprincipled
piranha - viciously chomping
on mine body eel 'lectric
paralyzing shell shock Atlas shrug
courtesy perpetrator did wield
truncated in God we trust trunkline
tragedy will land me in potter's field.

Unrepentant serpent did asphyxiate
I send an sos where Meg found -
mine devastated legal tender
(hint unscramble anagram
to proffer mine deliverance
regarding acceptable donations)
menacing alias Harvey Specter
stole my innocence and naïveté
hook, line and sinker

masterfully wormed his way
pounced with blackened barbs
fooling me to buzzfeed him bitcoins
both checking and savings account
depletion of funds and havoc did create
once solvent wordsmith now broke
a trainwrecker left no tracks
of stolen pilfered, looted, hocked...
precious freshly minted freight
unknown readers might hashtag me as ingrate.
I learned a brand new word today
And know who it applies to.
I thought I knew pejoratives
As well as a Thesaurus

But this one sounds a bit made up.
I stumbled on it glancing through
A  list of vintage words and terms
I came across this morning.

I’ve said it over many times
Enjoying how it sounds
It kind of rolls across the tongue
And could be used for joking

But it’s for more than just a laugh
And here is what it means:
“A shrewd, unprincipled person
Especially a politician.”

I will not be naming names -
Too numerous to list
But choose the one that you like least
And call him Snollygoster.
              ljm
I love new words. I had fun with this one and in the bargain realized I picked up a previous challenge word that I missed: Pejorative.  So I got two for the price of one. Yaaaay.
Bob B Apr 21
There's a scammer born every minute!
Every time you turn around
There's someone with a scam.
It's frustrating to always have
A mailbox full of spam.
Can anything be done about it?
Maybe not, so ****!
There's a scammer born every minute!

There's a scammer born every minute!
Whether it is on the phone,
An email, or a text,
Or whether they are at your door,
What will they think of next?
The matter makes me furious,
Disgusted and perplexed.
There's a scammer born every minute!

There's a scammer born every minute!
How DO they live without a conscience?
That's how they survive.
By lying and deceiving they will
Keep their schemes alive.
Unsuspecting victims are
Their targets; thus, they thrive.
There's a scammer born every minute!

There's a scammer born every minute!
Unethical, unprincipled,
Amoral, creepy, vile,
Repugnant, shameless, loathsome, hateful,
They are full of guile.
Sorry, but to see them have to pay
Would make me smile.
There's a scammer born every minute!

-by Bob B (4-21-24)
Travis Green Sep 2021
It’s something about seeing
A strong, stout-hearted man
That tremendously turns me on
I have heard that it’s immoral
To fantasize about men
To be with them and build
A sweet and loving family
Many would say it’s unprincipled
For the gay community to join in matrimony

To wed means that a man
And woman comes together
To fuse a bond that should last
Forever as the love they carry
In their hearts for each other
I am an unchained soul
Living in my truthfulness
Believing contrastingly from others
I presume that all LGBTQ beings
Should have the right to become
Espoused and cherish the affection
They have for another everlastingly

I have tried in the past to walk
Away from everything that
Consisted of being a homosexual
I thought people would love me
Better if I conformed to the norm
And lived their way, but it was
Much harder than I believed
Attempting to expunge
That part within me that
Enormously poisoned my core
Telling myself that it was
All a phase and in time
I would be back to my authentic self

But it was challenging
To not think about men
How they moved me
Incomparably into dreamworlds
Than the world of women
Still, I attempted to let it all go
And live a life without
My gay counterpart
It was in the weeks to come
That I saw myself falling
A thousand depths below ground
It was earth-shattering
Breaking me apart, piece by piece
Seeing gorgeous men every day
And walking in a different direction
To avoid gazing their way

I was losing myself
In trying to be what others
Wanted from me
Wanting to have friends in my life
Than to watch them walk out on me
They told me I was doing
The right thing by leaving
It all behind, that in time
It would be nothing but
A faraway remembrance
That would no longer
Have power over me

In those days, I was more
Brokenhearted than ever
Walking through life
As a shadowed soul
That no glowing light in sight
On the inside, I felt like
I was declining, divided
From society, not comprehending
What anything meant around me
Who I wanted to be was something
That I knew many others would detest
Before I became enlightened
I was searching for validation
From the world to aid me
In surviving another day

It took a while for me to see
That it’s far greater to be
Your true unapologetic self
Than what society wants you to be
You will only end up destroying yourself
When you stay hidden from
Your authentic existence
It doesn’t matter if people
Love you or not, you must
Love yourself wholeheartedly
It doesn’t make you stronger
When you are following a norm
It only weakens you more
When you choose to hide
Your certified identity
And lock it behind closed doors
Rezwanul Hassan Oct 2020
Sleeping in the flow of the obscure black night
The way the old man sleeps with the sheet muri
The excuse of money keeps the brain cells awake
The heart found in renting a lover is unprincipled
Those young women who gave their lives for love
Alas, no one remembers them today
Today, talent and mindfulness are sold only for money
Everyone is busy showing off rather than wearing clothes
Flowers cannot be seen blooming at the time of relaxation
The beautiful girl also became a product of the corporate world
Life unfolds and fills the next round with grain
Civil society is fascinated by money and fame
The bank locker saves a lot of money through labor
Exhausted after becoming a worker to meet only basic needs
The environment has become toxic due to the touch of mechanics
The golden face walks with the matka head of the mind
The days of art are over with creeper leaves and flowers
The industrial background cannot be covered by limited boundaries
Some amount has been filled in how many bags have been sold
Art and artists are traded on loan money and interest
Even the best sacrificial cow does not cost millions
When an artist pays millions per month
Entrepreneurs have no right to be called bad
He has lost the scales of conscience
Who is bad and who is good is invisible today
For the sake of media, there is no more art about naked women
Women's joints have become known to the consumer's knowledge
The emotions of the heart cannot win over the intellect
There is no end to the eternal journey of finite knowledge
Sareng says one foot does not match and two legs do not match
The computer of modern sailors has become computerized

The pen has been rusty ever since
White paper has stopped for lack of writing
The scratch of the rough pen did not take the place of smoothness
The way the shadows stand under the tree
Sunlight leads to reduced length of the shadow
Alogati loses with the speed of time
Time does not forgive him for measuring slowness
The instrument is digested by the coral of tomorrow in its time.

— The End —