An Artificial Answer To Mood Poem by Eillio Imbasciati

For a long stretch,
He lost his faith in satisfaction
Too much of making sense of what doesn't make sense,
Realizing that even then there's a perfectly human reason behind it
So off he goes, to that place:
When he gets there he just sits there, still nothing conclusive
So he needed that drink,
An artificial answer to mood
At least providing a different reality,
But this solution was a mix that was more of a compound,
Offering results that are cosmopolitan at best