A mind so still and quiet holds in me,
Am I the only one who finds this dull?
The same, lingering in my memory,
This culture pumps emptiness into my soul.
The light from the sun now controls our mind,
When at one time these same beams made us free,
Children would show us the things they could find,
Sharing with us pretty things you can see.
Now are creation comes from a statue
We bow to it, not seeing others there
Some speaking of nice things out of our view,
They die when not seen, we simply don't care.
        Beauty will leave faster than it can come,
        And when ignored, it won't leave a crumb.