Strictly Fictive

Truth? Your noble aspirations flail the nearby
who wonder, how did we get this close.
Imagined forms generate algebras
whose variation defies pithy alphabets.

Under strong conscience, anterior stimulants
divide the tethered souls in question.
Who owns a wander? Wonder not,
there are fences which do more than
suggest that barbs make a reliable narrator.

Verse us, curse us, then rehearse us,
we all want to be as perfect
as the ideal in mind
has it in its head to be.

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