The breadth and depth of the earth should and can
Be measured by the breadth of its understanding
Of its possible derth, the length of its resources and the
Impossibility of its existence to do such a thing.
These words fall on deaf ears now,
For I cannot muster the dedication.
It's me. It is my name. You won't read me
For I have no name. There is no gain.
The poem is dead. The purpose is dead.
It brings no relief. The whole thing brings no relief.
I know how to change everything.
Even morons have answers.