Styles Of Make Spellbound Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Everything is just going
without coming around,
without us really knowing
if its again to be found.
These are times of waking
finding out and create,
inventing new or making
after some debate.

Everything is just going
out the window now,
we are too much showing
and none's great somehow.
Inventing allot and new
making more junk flows,
getting stuff right through
for a bit nobody knows.

Everything is just going
into a waste of allot,
too much stuff now flowing
not keeping what you've got.
Making more and more
until the junk is all around,
what is this stuff all for
"styles of make spellbound".