The Composing Creativity of Humankind
The BBS has the tracks of how your gestations condescend,
your keyboard is where your fingers time and again stumble.
Numb and dumb, short-winded nib despairs of the scutwork's end;
In regard to your mumpsimus, succumbing to ink inundation, prostrate paper ceases to mumble.
Once arises the idea of an art creation, ineffably blent
or the one free from the rough-and-tumble,
pristine pulchritude, original mindscapes' most faithful fere,
shrinks and shrivels the way Venus dodges factitious smear.
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