Unmarked Grave - Still Alive
Last flickers of a dying flame still burn
I strain to see every bitter remembrance
lain before my feet
pain stained mendacious propaganda
blackened and singed upon my soul
words have risen and taken toll
right or not, secrets have been sold
out of mind into the hands of masses
such asses, cutting out the tongues of old
forcible suppression unfurled
into self-made sterilization
white sheets billowing in the wind
masking an unpure infantile soiling of intellect
sociopathic manipulation
senseless stripping down of the senses
we're utterly defenseless
gather round as smoke heaves
and smothers imperious will and wit
free thinking dies as another chapter
cries out and is carried
to an unmarked grave
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2018
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