FUCK logic

what is poetry but a hit to the head, what is the point of sleeping in a bed
I can place words all across a page and you can look at them with your eyes and find yourself in a daze
now this trance you're in isn't over to begin and you might chuckle and you might grin
but the real one, the one to win is the observation that the magic ni this shit which sets things brainbound afloat
is the ability of words to find themselves in a sensical order with the light touch of their crafter.