We search for what's not lost
We lost what's to be held tight
We've been made to despise what's true
And embrace what's untrue
We sought to buy useful trash
That throws a gash into our gold stash
For respect and reputation we've sought-after,
Even more when there's a price slash.
I call it trash, once bought brings rot
We don't mind the rot so long it cloths
A premature desire for what shan't be useful
For in this time what stays is what's done
My brothers will not hear of it
They live in this moment and no more
Open the blinds that make our windows blind
Unlock that door that has blocked the way for the clock
Let's see what's to be foreseen
Let's hear what'd been forewarned.
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