What are we without creativity,
if the world had no culture no art.
If evolution was the only truth,
because blind faith wasn't there to question it.
Imagine a place were Fuck had no meaning.
The curse would fly unheard,
without the hunger to fornicate,
the need to partition a Drunken impediment,
or pound a point into the ground.
Fuck would curl up in a shadowed dusty shelf with his perverse beloved brothers,
neglected and forgotten.
Shall the people of this world, the victims without faces,
find themselves voiceless, unable to speak out.
No songs with emotion, works of art that inspire the soul to weep and smile.
without creativity,
we the victims without faces would doom ourselves to consequence.
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