The Vertebrae of the Poetic
is not the cumbersome task
of seeking fame.
Though creativity creates
riveting sensations within
the least suspect.
No, its not a distinguished profression
But more of a progression
from plain to expression.
I'd seen it before, so many times
thrown around like wood in a fire,
subject to bias desire.
So it flourishes within,
the most unconventional places therein.
The Poetic Vertebrae is no such assurance,
to which comfort and warmth
may yield such toil.
No, it's not a working man's soil,
but moreso a thinking man's
delicate, developing coil.
Of which all words seem to hold
such avid ambivalence.
To all may seem such vain attempts
to dismanlte all such Truths
Of which whose facts may
be seen to be of questionable
credence.
Thus, it comes to pass
that all men who seek
the highest of truths
and turn blindly to the poetic
as crude, obscene indulgence.
May soon find that their own
insight could be of much
malign decadence.