I believe it is my duty to write about
What this silly mind comes up with
It is a record of a human life
Though my life may be more under scored
Than somebody else's
I like it that way
I'm just a man that pilots his eyes
To beautiful things of my interest
They are mostly dark haired
Or their engine roars
Like thunderous desert clouds
Sometimes it grows from the ground
Formed shaped and molded by entropy
There is no formal code of consistency
But that is what I enjoy
Things that are the same are boring
And uneventful
The first might have caught my eye
But the second, third, and fourth
Draw little interest
Things that are the same have a disease
Cause once spontaneity
Can no longer be established
Life becomes less like my dreams
And I like my dreams
Cokbod Lodwogo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreams-of-spontaneity/
