Ummm...hello again fellow conspirator castigators...here's a little something for you to ponder...
Not from chance
Intrinsic and constituent, we stand
Within our shoes as though we had been planned
Such cadence, never spoken, never heard
In lockstep, march the blind, march the absurd
Placeness, never mentioned nor foreseen
For granted, ever taking what has been
That and this, bisect, divide the all
Compartments, fetal born are only wall
Not in truth, nor knowing can it be
That rooms that have no door require key
Such trappings only hold illogic's voice
That wails alone forgetting there is choice
Choose to know, that from perspective see
We are not herd, that individual be
Exist in truth, that logic light your stance
That moments flow from foresight, not from chance
Disclaimer: As you can see I took some liberties with a few words...however...this being a poem and I a poet...I have a certain
license to
drive my thoughts home...
YouSir