Friday, November 6, 2009

Another crook.

We're so offensive, defensive.
Worthless pieces, piles.
Puzzles, grains of sand.
The same pattern, repeated.
Day after day, waltz through the songs.

Stale thoughts, stale affections.
Let the water rush on,
Your commands can't stop it.
The sky grows light, then darkens.
What makes you think you can change it?

You cry "this is unjust!"
But, The Jury brushes it aside.
You plead insanity, you swear it.
They can see through it.
They see the scared boy underneath.

The trees whisper fabricated secrets,
As you complain to your cell mates
"I just needed ____, I shouldn't be here!"
They laugh, They all tried being crazy, too.
"Even I tried that", says the demon in the corner

Every path is just a dead end.
The faces we wear are false.
Every hour that ticks by,
Reeks of hate and boredom.
The faces we wear are not our own.

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