The Pottery Of Reality

It's ok to say if you didn't understand anything, But do you believe its ok to say I am not curious about something ? How long would the razorblade of boredom wear the costume of disassociation ? How long would you pick purposeless shards of your day without knowing what's emancipation ? Exams become the scale of knowledge but it's made from the retarded mirage, One after the another all your passion burns in the furnace that bakes foliage, Suicide is done as tears roll down from the cheeks of rage, As this bloodied fate integrates in each life as it's eraser erases you from reaching any age, Were your dreams so bad or your choice was worse ? Now you know more than getting employed you obey conformity which is a terrible curse, Making your choice freely makes free will a reasonable power against your despair, As you will begin to walk on the rumble of your forgotten disrepair, Your thoughts shape your reality not an exam sheet, Either run to death or live free for life to be neat, These words are small but their meaning is big for mentality, As this is an art of mastering the pottery of reality.