Egotistical people I know.
How I wonder how they flap.
Into the word they come in millions.
Into the heart aches of all that is there.
Some people don't realize the pains.
That the droning voice of all that is at stake.
Watching children go through life.
Mistakes of zillions come into sight.
A single thought in a tale of dimensions.
A tale of descriptions that is all there is.
I find it funny that no one sees.
I find it funny that no one notices.
The effective droning of one single voice.
The effective dullness of the same plot on.
The titles of pages that blurs into one.
How idle it seems to join the crowd?
Plots over plots they seem to flock.
Same characters, same line.
Same underwear, and fear's.
Funny it seems that unique plots are gone.
Where have all the twisted ness gone?