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Haste in Season

Play that beautiful piano music I so seldom remember
The speed of life has left me so distraught in my treasures
I wish to slow down, breathe in, and enjoy life’s simple pleasures
I hope to be part of no drastic measures

So I sit back, take a breath and allow my words to flow
Not to blow in hateful bluster but flow in verses;
Clusters, as serene and fluid as water can muster -

So I may think before I act
And use logic to react

Some see life as a merry-go-round
Only like a ride, and they only believe they live to die
But if we only live to die, then why even be alive?
I live to be, to be someone, and to be the best man possible

Just oh so simple, I wish to be
Unfortunately I believe this cannot be
For this era shall go down in history
Speed has overcame reason
And haste may become the new season

Would this be treason or evolution?
Mankind has often questioned
Yet now the information age gives us only what we’re told
Statements of facts and figures have replaced
Questions of pacts and highly thought of persona grown old

So are we angry because of our own thoughts?
Or are we angry because of what we have been taught?

Speed is in the season
Haste is the reason
Take away the “S” for treason
And allow the water to flow for freedom



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