You don’t do this alone,
Talking to yourselves,
While the cells of geniuses,
Remained jarred upon the shelves.
Such a state of encasement,
Unlikely, but it’s true,
Vacuum sealed and dusty,
Dingy, gray and blue.
Open one, Pandora’s box,
A difference, undefined,
Mental state corruption,
A genius vilified.
Unrefined and worldly,
Coexisting opposition,
You asked for my opinion,
I gave you definition.
High resolution content,
Hidden by eraser’s trail,
How many words were wasted?
Gone, the epic tale.
Tailing behind the others,
Who once did run this race,
Lurching down the backstretch,
With an ashen blanked face.
You don’t do this alone,
Nor does anyone, it’s true.
Standing feet on shoulders,
Inside jars, gray and blue.

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