Stow Ick

Avoidance, thy name is cross purposes
Your universal law conflicts with the 
Ideal I've been weight lifting
Dead olympics, cleanly jerked us out of
Competitive spirits, since the playing field
Is a pile of dried, broken spaghetti

Soundly, those Roman historian resonate
With the individualist ethos
Cornered by market forces
And the fragility of moneyed nonsense

Bury my disgust? I'm not sure;
And that lack of confidence
Will be not only a downfall
But the root of all sneers

Existence is rain
Falling down
Going to the river, ocean
Rising to do it again
Easier than a boulder's mountain climb
And a lot less effort

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