But what spurs this false sycophancy
This want of need to enshrine tribute I posted a picture someone else made
It was no more perfect than others
Yet status covers over a clumsy ego
Lifeless dreams that haunt the reality
Platitudes are perhaps superior flattery
But none the less still imitation of fact
That a thousand miles away a thought
Takes shape in the mind of another
That a connection has been made
Tenuous and fragile, though it be
But understand that I do this for myself
Technology just brings you closer to mine
Our words are the cipher to our souls
