Wielding words like they're swords
And paper like pen
Could it get any worse
As you're making them up

The dictionary doesn't care
Just add the definition
Of how it feels to you
The only one that matters

The library holds no solace
To those who are the shelves
The words are just too definite
To match your nebulous self

And you're flipping the page
Before you've opened the book
Knowing the endings
While perusing the backs

I'm getting weary of reading
Re-reading same prose
Not so profound the second time
Old wisdom's just knowledge

The library holds no solace
To those who are the shelves
The words are just too definite
To match your nebulous self.