We Go... Wrong

Simply not knowing (or ignorance) is NOT bliss...

WE GO... WRONG



However beauty somewhere came to be
Someone everywhere took of it for free
Advantage to the self always will stay
Irons clasped and are freedoms held at bay

Living like headstones in cubicles chairs
Hands striking keyboards of processing there
Lost teenage glories lain gentle to a grave
Slip aging flowers splendor far away

and governments play holding all the hand
Fingers numb tapping everywhere they stand
Subtleties dose of comatose to love
Forgotten so thyself, whatever of

For granted, for some kind of nothingness
Everything is breathing whats willing this
Humans tasteless in their oblivion
Man, his kind, impropriety the sum

Wit gathers years and serves some simple need
Without are frenzied failing calls to see
As liter to the curb lazily tossed
Ignorant gutter and a line is crossed