Faint scribbles on thin tree fiber
we write for thought, to inspire
how can collections of symbols mean so much?
our existence depends on it
yet we only rush
to find the one right
no depth or questioning
the clock’s endless ticking, the dark fog thickening

No time to stop, think, use your head
desperate writers wasting their lead
writing down dreams to never be read
what’s the point of a culture always racing ahead?

Take your time now, each moment that passes
a sliver of life, only one in the masses
creating meaning from everyday
stop timers and watches. enjoy your stay

Time is limited, we are not
we limit ourselves from language and thought
every book we don’t read, or word we don’t write
is an opportunity lost, a worthless fight
we don’t take advantage of the knowledge before us

Untouched miracles on shelves collect more dust
thick novels unread with bindings of leather
it can’t be ignored, too much unexplored
language and words are what bring us together