TRUST'S GORGEOUS CAGE

 

A little half-heartedly, we still regularly keep an eye on the people around us who are examining us; an inner, restless suspicion crucifies the trust we have with honesty in us. The gauntlet of basic principles is always thrown away by someone and you never know who will pick it up. Today, the well-deserved success is no longer a guarantee, a guarantee of well-being only for some, if it is still accessible in merit. 

A wide selection of doves of peace, multibillion-dollar loans, golden samovars, and the petty calvary of escalating hells on earth is ready. Persistent confusion and disarray make you suspicious and introverted rather than open. Halfway between the tongue and the heart, there are almost so many seemingly incomprehensible, massive contradictions. 

The hypocritical, lying-false, tinsel dregs of ideas seem to have possessed the individual for a long time, not only with what was said; in actions and wills, any kind of refutation that is considered solid can hardly spread. The petty will of the pig-headed bigwigs seems to be starting to coincide, because for some reason you have to stand aside all the time, otherwise a stray accident can easily happen to anyone at any time. 

The internal compulsion that was cultivated in the soul was created with a calm but petty invention, stealthily, now it is as if the person is diligently building the Phalantszer cage for himself, from which it is not certain that he will be able to free himself for good until the day of judgment. 

With dialectical interaction, it is possible to stand in front of ourselves less and less; in the mirror of eternity, all aimless, pathetic, loser attempts seem like another perforated stomach ulcer. "Some" cling to the traps of salvation because they can't do anything else. It's getting harder and harder to look around openly between the keyholes of soul-fences.

Reviews

[JayG]

This has meaning for you, because you're aware of the things that drove you to write it. But you never identify them, just b***h about them happening in terms so vague as to be meaningless to the reader.

And you make the flawed assumption that those who read share your situation. For example:

• A little half-heartedly, we still regularly keep an eye on the people around us who are examining us;

"We?" I don't do anything half-heartedly. i don't "Regularly keep an eye on people who are examining me," because other than my doctor, no one does.

• an inner, restless suspicion crucifies the trust we have with honesty in us.

This is, literally meaningless as read. You're trying so hard to sound learned and wise that you're well into purple prose, spoken only to try to impress the reader.

And of course, it's by no stretch of imagination a poem.

• A wide selection of doves of peace, multibillion-dollar loans, golden samovars, and the petty calvary of escalating hells on earth is ready.

Is ready for what?

In short: Your attempt to have AI write it for you is a failure.

[Tasi83]

Dear JayG! I apologize if my prose-style poem attempt did not please you! But we are humans, after all, who make mistakes and learn from our mistakes! Who cares! There are still many important, complex problems in the world today, so I tried to answer certain questions that interest me with my own common sense, and not with the computer's artificial intelligence (as you claim). If my writing is unpleasant or disturbing to you, then you should simply ignore it, and there is no need to insult the person! Have a nice day! Best regards: Norbert