A world of benevolence awaits those that suffer;
or maybe that's just wistful thinking from a
disengendered child with little more to do each day
than wonder why it is the world keeps turning
as the vast amount of pointless expression continues
to grow, and grow, and growandgrowandgrow.
How have we come to the point that we obscure
the attempt to create something, to share something,
just to entertain the musings of malformed brains,
or maybe just maybe it is easier to amuse oneself
with the travails of another than it is to attempt to
experience one's own existence, and far easier than
to ignore a process, as if it is ignored, it may thrive
under the watch of its very own seed-sowers?
The answer's easy; we were always there.