The Way It Is (From, Poet On Www)
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Peter S. Quinn
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The way it is
From a day to day,
Like an epiglottis
In society's cliche;
How everything goes
From hours coming,
Unawareness knows
To pieces bottoming.
The way it was
To the past gone,
Years in natural cause
From the tidings spawn;
How it's made to last
Build into a plastic,
And to be aghast
In its way bombastic.
What is art and not
When the cloths fall off,
And the snobberies plot
Shows its way and doff;
How it's made too bare
The rustic fallen deceives,
And nobody is there
To take in false believes.
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