Whirlwind

you can't control anything

Whirlwind
of people who's names i
know of not, and care not
she is his golden orb
in that one night
the Eternal question rises
like mist from a pond
what is it that she has
that damned allure...
they all have it.
Mine is buried in a corn field
somewhere

(she attracts him
like no other lover)
mine is probably locked up
in an argent box in a society somewhere
is she intelligent or unique
hell, i wear purple now
maybe they clear
because i'm respected

The philosopher...what
are his words to live by
Carpe Fucking Diem
is my e pluribus unum
I just don't care