An Original Work / September 6, 2020

Flittering here, flittering there,
Idols and idols are everywhere.
No sound of mind there to be found,
Wandering, wandering all around.

No light of day, lives in dismay,
He’s going nowhere from day to day.
Listening not, he’s to be bought,
Slipping and sliding without a thought.

No sense to him, lives with a grin,
Mockery, mockery, all ‘bout him.
Nowhere to go, all is a show,
Comforting, comforting – all he knows.

Not will end well, end up in hell,
While prideful thoughts within him do swell.
All is a game – not him to blame,
While he keeps wandering, all the same.

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