A Poem From The Tiles

(Using some words from a finished scrabble board)

Muting out the rest of the world
Ween from screen to screen
Playing out the given roles
Is the way we do our things

We are plagued by hoaxes
Of empty promising saints
That amaze us with hexes
And bib us with constraints

We never refrain from the same
Settling like ash in an urn
What’s the point when you’re just a digit
In a stew of numbers that turn

Veto our utopia if you must
Mark us as meat to slaughter
We are not just your toys
But the dust in your mortar

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Writing is all I want to do.

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