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Submitted on
April 7, 2010
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The world she never said was fair
comes back to prove my point
to everyone who comes around:
the world is out of joint

It's nothing I can take away;
take me away from it
the ever-burning, flaming spire
stuck in a pile of shit

Well do I know now indeed
the strife all of us face
but as The Animals said
"We gotta get of this place"

Just to be a cog again
in steamy, oily works
would do nothing to support
development of quirks

Won't your life be shared with me
as I have often dreamt?
I cannot rightly say the things
my heart screams, though they tempt

What gives us rights
to steal these lives
we prime their pumps and then
we leave them all to dry

Lives we mould to fit our bill
are naught but empty shells
and as they shatter on the ground
they now await fresh hells

The hell I see is just a pond,
the city reflects within
of stark gray scape above
I see no life, just tin.
I was feeling a bit... angry after reading part of Parable of the Sower and had to try to get things out of my mind one way or another
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