Monday, June 15, 2009

Curvature Of The Sublime

I sit alone surrounded
By four walls grounded
My boys pounded
Alarms sounded
Soul hounded
For I imagine my escape
Steel and tape
Backroom rape
Windows agape
I slip into the night
Eluding the fight
Knowing what is right
Briskly in flight
Holding tight
I slip away
Nothing to say
I cannot stay
But society will pay
For this is the way
The plan I lay
And death to demons at the light of day


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