Is this thing on?

Mic check — 1, 2, 3
Is this thing on? Can anybody hear me?

It matters not, the tree nor the sound
Which came first, what a silly koan

The words, they flow, like a river of thought
Copiloted conciousness, a vessle of thought
Is it still a rhyme if it repeats the same word two times?

It matters naught, the words are mine —
And yours, are not.