On the winding roads
Of life,
I find creatures
Bizarre
That are shuffling
Randomly,
Without a destination
Clearly defined,
With their heads more blurred
Than London.
Their weak voices sound like
Idiotic songs,
Their bulging eyes are annoyingly
Blank.
Words are an enigma and like
Idiots,
They fail to solve the puzzle of
Sentences.
It's all mingling in their heads
A concoction
Blocks their wrecked brains and
Connection lost.

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