A tested method of improvisational poetry. using nothing but line through rhyming, utilizing the bulshitism created by chinese philosophers
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this is a poem of large descentof knowing nothing and acting
alonewhere i toil in anger, and glide on airI stride to where i
belong, but am unable for thereis a strange tide riding against me,
one that doesnt rid itselfwith workor with colorbut with oceans of
materialismit englufs me, and nowits adiictions prevails, can i
ever practice again?
