One mans cup of coffee is anothers tea,
with all the varations
of flavour, temperature and additives,
and then there's that
"I have an idea" ... but that's not allowed
some unwrit rule -
I do the slightest and all heavens wrath
is poured on me,
I do much and find that hell's anger
is burnin' my feet,
their goal is to pull the potentials apart,
to have their one world.
Yet neither can win this khemetic game
it's always a stalemate,
because without friction and resistance
the world is a greyscale,
a machine without programs, software
without hardware.
And eventually you give up - kickin'
the can down the road,
you stop and turn around and say:
"I'm not doing this..."
and make the can('t) into the holy grail,
in the temple of ideas.
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