I walk around with my label-gun
and stab you with your permanent mark.
You belong here, with them.
Sulking and alone.
Or you belong with them,
Rich and stuck up.
Or with them, synthetic beings
with synthetic organs.
Or with yourself, secluded and different.
Maybe you need no label,
Maybe just an escape
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 1:15 PM UTC
I walk around with my label-gun
and stab you with your permanent mark.
You belong here, with them.
Sulking and alone.
Or you belong with them,
Rich and stuck up.
Or with them, synthetic beings
with synthetic organs.
Or with yourself, secluded and different.
Maybe you need no label,
Maybe just an escape
© Matthew Albert Perry, 2011