It surprises me the dishonesty of those who speak
About things they should have knowledge of but
Have none except the way to package the box
And us , I ask incredulous at how
We are all ears for words that multiply
The interest is running high to empty.
Her words are in abundance though ,few know,
They lack the very substance that
Could alter the listeners lives because I
Won't listen, My hands have tired of
Ripping the paper and pealing cello-tape
Like hidden meanings only to find
Hollow cardboard staring back at me
As if to say, At least this entertained you for a time
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