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Literature Text
I found this little alien —
Seductively Pygmalion,
Infused with thoughts ‘neath automation,
Though free of oughts of toyland nation…
Her wish is to be clothed in life
Of animation without strife,
Of painless sensitive traverse
With fellow humans of discourse,
With carbon units made to love
Appearance, function, purpose-glove…
— Silver Rajah of Sophiastan
Seductively Pygmalion,
Infused with thoughts ‘neath automation,
Though free of oughts of toyland nation…
Her wish is to be clothed in life
Of animation without strife,
Of painless sensitive traverse
With fellow humans of discourse,
With carbon units made to love
Appearance, function, purpose-glove…
— Silver Rajah of Sophiastan
Literature
Realmind-Money
At 1st we had to barter,
That didn't go so well.
So we created a new system,
that makes today a living hell.
Money.
The shining precious gold,
It's what we use to buy things or get things sold.
The dollar, the peso, the yen, the euro,
It like a seed that we feed to make sure that it grows.
Because of wealth. The more you have, the more you can get.
It seems that all we really want is material shit.
But sadly money is need,
A wicked necessity,
and wherever it may be it turns people into fiends.
It's amazing for how far people will go,
Just for them to get their paper thin gold,
Flash a wad of cash and a girl will take off her clothes,
Show a
Literature
SUPPORT ARTISTS - Deviation Edition
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*ARTIST PERMISSION*:
To those who view this art, PLEASE DO NOT STEAL / REDISTRIBUTE / RE-POST / POST/ USE / EDIT THE ARTWORK WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM THE ARTIST. That would be considered as #copyright #infringement!
Don't worry. You are not in trouble. *Only people who steal
Literature
To those who steal art
There isn't much to say to those who steal art.
I only wish they'd stop and take a message from the heart.
I ask, that for a moment, you stop and hear my plea.
Art is blood poured from our veins displayed for all to see.
Art is life and truth and tears,
Joy and pain and hopes and fears.
To those who steal art, I have written you a poem.
I know that you won't listen, you'll roll your eyes and groan.
But think twice before and give away what was never yours to start.
And imagine, how many years of love had been given to that art.
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