Friday, September 24, 2010

Dead End

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Dead End



Pour Panic
Torturous time ticks
Agony
Every minute
Peel the acid pain
Called life
 A moments Bliss
A pin prick
Will jab the job
Will lead us on
An inspired youth
 Of hopelessness
Drag us on a tour
Of turmoil
Black our eyes with dirt
‘til we see no light.

Rats roam like toys
Remote uncontrolled
Whiskers dipping dancing
Slowly they nibbled
 At the kernel of refuse
We called home
Radioing serene screeches 
Of despair 
Before silence
Perched 
before us
In a dusty
Beam of Light.

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