Slow train

Like the teeth on a saw
run through ragged and raw
and life would only give me more of the same
in who’s name would I cry
who out there would try
to abstain from the vote?

Turncoats and traitors,sharp teeth,alligators all waiting to feed on the needs of the masses.
An opium that passes many times on the spoon,soon forgotten as the need becomes stronger.
Faces that wait, become longer and thinner
but dinner is not on this menu, where ennui moves free to entomb you and me and nothing in this life comes packaged for free.

Do you see where we are heading while shedding the skin that wears thin on our bones?
fading into half tones in half lives
and in old wives tales where the nails are waiting by the coffin,is stating eloquently,
that we’re going evidently
to the grave.


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