The world is cliché, loosing content
of it’s hit, the word has lie-sense
of it truthfulness, world is sage
enslaving in it’s pains of stage,
World is sweet, graved in bitter taste;
World is slow, chanted with fool’s haste,
World is swift, world is a sage, filled
with foolish players as it’s tilled’.
The world is cliché, circled with dim
light as lie-sense fills every tip.
The world is cliché, covered with fain
words as reality is vain.
The world is cliché, brilliant lies
of mistakes, the truth lies in lies.
The world is cliché, sage it is:
Dribbled by fools, sane made us his.
“words from the innocent mind”