To Y.P.L 2
D
Dm W
0
Altın Yaprak
You seem to think that you are so liberated,
Yet you're a slave to smut and relativism.
You appear to lack a moral compass in this
Ever darkening world. O you may be P.C,
But you are all style without any real substance!
You may think that you and your ilk are the future,
Yet in the grand scheme of things, you're fleeting shadows.
Your work merely mimics Time's prevailing fashions,
Your half - baked conceptions smack of obscure nonsense.
Compared to wise creative masters, you're worthless.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş