Monday, August 24, 2009

Does not meet qualifications

Quiet hours
They murder me in silence

Trapped
Wretched chains
Too tight to move
Sun burned and wasted
White screens and a colony of ants
forming characters and qualifications

Dance and sing for the ring masters of the world
Shake hands
Make Merry
the selfish grinning money launderers

All to become nothing more than a small fee
one cog in the machine
easily afforded
easily replaced
easily forgotten

The world seems a theme park
where all the rides have minimum requirements
"You must be this tall ---->"
And I couldn't reach it on my tip toes

Screams and thrills
First I hesitated
now desperately I plea

Blistering metal bench
and foot traffic
Watch the people walk by
watch them get in line
watch them strap in and smile

Quiet hours
They murder me with silence

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