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YOUR SMARTPHONE GOES IN THE TRASH TODAY AND FOUNTAIN PEN IN HAND YOU WILL FACE THE EMPTY PAGE!

 

Amongst the many

There was someone ready

For the next stage in the evolution of men

In his hand the only tool was a fountain pen

You could have predicted him to be great

From regular hours of work

Always late


On missing days

He was preparing for his better plays

He had now made a place

For himself in life

Yet though everything seemed

To crumble apart
Inside


From the ash he built up a fortress anew

Where he took hold of the reigns and turned the snow

The stars and the Kings into gold and blue

It was the symbolism that made a deep impact

And this was the next stage in his pact

Who ever but himself knew that

Would be blessed by the welfare system


The old king would have agreed with none of this

But now the new era had come

And if there was even an inkling of hope in the land

It was to trust in the intuitions of the artist and jesters alike

Maybe this kind of expansive exploration of mind

Was not for the feint of heart

Still he crafted it all to mold around with the rhyme

And reached for the stars


Far and wide we now spread the new

May the old be deemed no good

Adopting new technologies too fast

Not thinking about if they can last

IT will only make us fall prey to enemies made

In the image of just those

Who were so desperate to invent this insane game


Here we were given names

And our value to society based on what we can do

It was never really about becoming understood

Or achieving more than basic necessities and food

But i dared to dream bigger

I was not going to live like nigger

I dared to dream for a better life

And i was willing to pay the price


There was only so much i could on my own

I was not willing to become just another clone

Tied to his or her smartphone

Typing meaningless comments

Or clicking dislikes

Your type’s

You are empty minds

Addicted to pleasure and flashing lights

Your kind you are just empty minds





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  Not some first tries These were the last line’s That the master wrote After he had lost all hope The sun came in He didn’t grab ahold of the pen Momentary was his rem In his dream Fashion stating Yes of course In the beginning I wasn’t too original In the next inning I was fucking winning Hitting batting Averaging Up there were my Percentage’s Turning pages like mad How many hours passed Nobody know Then something happened to my ability To go From the beginning to the end I was caught in the whirlpool like hurricane Thunder Wind Thunder Wind Yeah Caught in the maze of mind YEAH YEAH It was impossible to finish that rhyme Let alone the sentence i had start My progress on the halt Or so i thought Really i was learning To work smart Work smart My progress on the halt Work smart Following my heart Work smart Work smart No outside ...