GWL PLAYOFFS ROUND 1- #6 SCAR (4-3) VS #7 INNO (5-5) INNO WINS/OPEN FOR FEED

Inno · 07-23-2020, 09:59 PM

Clones among the copies, we hide the facts
and bury the truth, digging for answers
along the rips of our dirt filled paper mask's.
clawing out the under tones, searching
for the subtle.
the small things reverberate as we drown
In each ripple...
over zealous, never satisfied, this is common,
even among the thiefs they find comfort.
leeches to societies vein; leaders, hollow
shining amongst the dark, but still avoiding shadows....
designer feelings lead to hand made atrocity
stitching togther individuals with
the finger tips of many.
poor for the poor, rich for the wealthy;
rats to there own race...
Spinning their wheels to the next blasphemy....
Off the backs of many the few reach the pinnacles
So they encourage the crowds until we lose individuals
To have us march along with blinders
No room left for ideas from free thinkers...
Thought drowning in the river
While the struggle reflects insecurities to a broken mirror
seeing themselves not as a sinner
never looking past their own reflections.
So if beauty stands amongst the beholders...
...we are perfection.

In an ocean of lives, they deem themselves waves.
above all.

07-23-2020, 09:59 PM	#5
Inno Ad mini tator Join Date: Feb 2013 Posts: 10,025 Battle Record: 26-54 Champed - Lime Green Poetry Association - Black August - 1-2 Punch League Rep Power: 85899403	Clones among the copies, we hide the facts and bury the truth, digging for answers along the rips of our dirt filled paper mask's. clawing out the under tones, searching for the subtle. the small things reverberate as we drown In each ripple... over zealous, never satisfied, this is common, even among the thiefs they find comfort. leeches to societies vein; leaders, hollow shining amongst the dark, but still avoiding shadows.... designer feelings lead to hand made atrocity stitching togther individuals with the finger tips of many. poor for the poor, rich for the wealthy; rats to there own race... Spinning their wheels to the next blasphemy.... Off the backs of many the few reach the pinnacles So they encourage the crowds until we lose individuals To have us march along with blinders No room left for ideas from free thinkers... Thought drowning in the river While the struggle reflects insecurities to a broken mirror seeing themselves not as a sinner never looking past their own reflections. So if beauty stands amongst the beholders... ...we are perfection. In an ocean of lives, they deem themselves waves. above all.