Intelligence Poem by Prideless Idiot

Intelligence



Just do it, i hear in the faint distance of the nether lands.
Just do it, i see in the transparency of your eyes of cobalt steel
Just do it, i feel in the ghost of my weight sitting on me
Truth sits right on you, why not take the directive to follow in
To stand, write a simple rhyme and another superficial hymne
To walk, put your foot forward, but not before your brain
To talk, open your mouth, after your subconscious does
Sit in the mind, parallel the details, produce another slate of emptiness
Walk over the mind, scuff the feels, wash yourself with reality
Discard the mind, absorb your surroundings, implode upon contact
Punch a bag, force is released from you, energy also being created inside you
Play a game, lose your conscience in the process, no skill to develop
Write a poem, regain a balance of life, everything gets restored
Higher higher art keys pull down their own personas
Smaller living sizes take shape and reform space
Mediums all the same for us to experience similarly unique
Sensation loses its purpose when stripped down to its core
Build nothing around it to sustain its longevity
Process undo the layers of material in item
Rewind to restore all the updates of life
Sign a peace treaty with my grave
Write a will for my soul
Cut myself open and consume my blood
Sponge in all my surroundings
Kill half of my genius
Live a happier life

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Intelligence serves us well, but can it get to a point it instead chokes us?
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