Monday, August 25, 2003

Distinct boundaries exist
In the hearts of many
Never can delve into the psyche
Infiltrate mines with shots
Of humanity

But it was too late

They bit into he shit served
To them on silver platters
As they savor the taste of fallacies

Possession of minds
Obsession to grim
Can make a good movie

Fools pay $9 dollars a ticket
Jus to see them
Prancing on the screen
Laughing at themselves
Crying to themselves
Being disgusted with themselves
Only to go home in their SUV’S
In which they bought with their
Own blood
To continue the sequel of their
Miserable screenplay
In which they written for themselves

Yesterday, I saw you flex a mental thought
Showing gears turn
Even without the turn of the handle
And today,
You resemble more of a 70’s
Rick James freakazoid android
Complete with a disk programmed
By Big Brother as he hold
Your hand with his right
And cops the remote
With his left.

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