In organized motion, society's sway,
People converse, day by day.
No pleasure, no curiosity I find,
Yet connection is forged, a bind.

Two expressions, dual faces in sight,
Talking about others, both dark and light.
Sometimes good, sometimes not so much,
A social projection, its nature such.

Though I choose not to share my own tale,
I engage in discourse, without fail.
For in discussing others, bonds are formed,
Aligning ourselves, a path adorned.

To be something for others, a noble task,
Within structured groups, masks we don and bask.
A motion classic, society's art,
Linking lives, each playing our part.

As the Monkey, I observe with keen eyes,
The dynamics of life, no disguise.
No grand paint, just rhythm's flow,
In groups organized, our essence shall show.

Embrace this motion, organized and clear,
A symphony of human connection to hold dear.
No untold worlds, no threads that connected,
Just the Monkey's essence, so divine.

For in talking about others, bridges we make,
Weaving a fabric of connection, give and take.
In the dance of society, harmonious and free,
The Monkey's wisdom, for all to see.

No grand spectacle, yet purposeful and grand,
As we navigate the human soul, hand in hand.
In organized groups, we find our place,
A rhythmic cadence, with grace.