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Opinion and Intelligence

So much bitterness, so much hate I’m not sure where we are headed at this rate So much fear and so much spite Every fool, utterly convinced that only they are right

Lost and deluded by the lenses we hold We are slaves who plate our shackles with gold We judge, condemn and criticize what not Yet suffer the same when placed under the spot

Drowned partly in apathy, partly in ignorance Won’t woe betide us and not transcendence For outward is pointed our finger, our gaze We’ve split the world in two — to criticize or praise

I see opinion, like thought, is merely a poor form of our intelligence after all A compulsive gathering from without, like the body, just another another wall To do all we can while still bowing to the depths of what we truly do not know Is to know true abandon to the magic of life, to merge and become the flow

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