The Y2k Rebels
The collaboration between the street and the Y2K mutants had commenced. These 8o’s baby’s filled the night’s air with green lite smoke, and choked back opiate related dreams from white coat masters. These were the city trolls. Forced to bend to society’s creation, of the new crazed sensation. Symbolic doses, hit the millennial air, as many become ready to hallucinate the night away, with a love for everything once ignored. Now the new age scene has turned many into fossilized poppers. As the years trickled away, the rotted souls, which were bought and sold, helped to build up treacherous narcotics related, public sedated, stick-up kids. Stuck with felonious tactics, many became devious. This was now the new age past-time. It was debauchery fitted and fallen into the midnight hour.
Madness was now shared, among those celled up with bites taken out of the family’s love. Years wrinkle into the fold of existence, as the drug fiend and high and mighty pushers create tactics to have pockets full of presidential green backs. These buckeye babies were now renegades forming freelance robbery hits from city to city. This was excitement for the ages. Their dopamine rushed out onto resurrected pipes, as bloody needle points were beginning to fornicate the blue passage. Now underground these were the people infected by thrown away existence. Authors of their own free-lanced hell. A swollen deviation tears threw, like a wicked witch twister. Now crucified by the same authoritative empire they once tried to live by. No longer will family love be embezzled, nor will they be upheld to hear the cruel-hearted deepest sold-off cries.
Copyright © Nick Alexander | Year Posted 2015
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