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Modern Beat Poetry

de Cymatic Discourse

I write heresies and sign my name,

publish and perish all the same.

You ask why should I not stay?

Your sobrieties are all a shame

If you have pills on the candle flame.

Tell me, where's your doubter's face?

Your anxieties caught in a pill

Makes you feel like you can feel

When your religion is all DeMille

Just wash it down, wash the lies out from the real.

With your doubts, it's all the same

Now you see how it feels to say,

"I fell off my name."

Your computer says your time is gone

You've been idle for too long.

You give up now, and turn away

And when the virus makes your blood start to decay

With your doubts, it's all the same

Now you see how it feels to say,

"I fell off my name."

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