I’ve felt an overwhelming sense of irony, just now.
That I cannot practice what I preach,
as it has become part of the modern world.
I could bathe in my pool of questions,
indulge in the unanswered,
but
no more, no more.
Fighting with my pen, does not shed any blood.
Was I foolish to provoke natural progression?
or wise to flex my knowledge of perceived worldly mistakes?
I cannot stop to contemplate
on wishes unfulfilled.
And trends I cannot change.
That I cannot practice what I preach,
as it has become part of the modern world.
I could bathe in my pool of questions,
indulge in the unanswered,
but
no more, no more.
Fighting with my pen, does not shed any blood.
Was I foolish to provoke natural progression?
or wise to flex my knowledge of perceived worldly mistakes?
I cannot stop to contemplate
on wishes unfulfilled.
And trends I cannot change.