Bull

I am not a gifted poet
Just a spewer of the word,
If it forms a poem so be it,    
It's irrelevant; absurd.
I am not a pretense prophet,
I just comment and observe,
Now and then as luck would have it
We get back what we deserve
I am not a saint, or seer,
Not a sentimental sage,
I am just another seeker
Turning yet another page.
This is just a ball of fire,
Covered by a coat of mud,
We are just a bunch of carbon,
Floating in a sea of blood
Do not think what we do matters,
Earth will turn when we are gone,
We are just a tenant renting,
Eviction notice pending dawn
Heed these words, they are no deeper,
Than a babies unheard cry,
If we aren’t our brother’s keeper,
Truth be told, we live a lie.
This is just more bull I’m shitting,
No need to listen, nothing new,
What’s the diff I am only spitting,
Words and phrases over you.
Take or leave these words of wisdom,
For they are not wise at all,
We create with pride a prison,
Into which we all will fall.