Why is intelligence thought to be a virtue?
What has it brought to this world?
What was it that these dead poets did?
Where was their motivation?
I've listened to them all my whole life.
And they have brought me nothing but pain.
The joys of fruit are beyond their words.
The trees, far more majestic than their tomes.
As time trickles by.
My heart warms to the thought of an end.
Caring about so much and so little these days.
Its getting harder to pretend.
