Existence
traffic jams, the constant beat ,bloody robotic tune,
automobile cells, comatose faces, last stand, this subtle hate.;
frying intellect, counting money ,faraway fields, mind machinery,
comatose ,steering wheel illusions ,dream delusional ;cement and aluminium soothers,
we should be institutionalised left to play ping pong and getting two hundred volts on a daily basis,
and pumped full of anti fear anti hype anti consumerism drugs delivered intravenously,
daddy following daddy ,walking in straight lines, even the trees cant be bothered if you scream.
solitude, whiskey ,fat preachers sweating, caressing your wallet ,
the programme that was coded at your birth is now tattooed upon your soul,
Copyright © Paul Martin | Year Posted 2016
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