London Poem: Day 222

27 March

Calmly, I followed the signs
To here, to you;
A collection of letters,
Forming words
That make so little sense.
They never do, and
It makes no difference
Because we speak in tongues,
Misunderstood by everyone,
Still studied and
Falsely understood so as
To keep foolishness at bay.
Too late,
We will never appear any other way.
It is merely in our favour
That everyone else will look the same.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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