A badge without condition bought cheap, from a thrift store
Lies with brass medals and plastic ribbon, from uncaring hands.
A paid add on the paper floor, claps on the back from glad-hands,
Claps for marrying poor, she’s worth it, all her rotten core.
You walk with conceit, when the army stamped it’s boot,
A doctor’s note, before the sarge could break your seat.
Readies from your parent’s purse, a hand-out on the brew.
You queue for ****** on the roads in a pimped-out hearse.
Slurred words drawl from the dark, blood spit on the street,
Fistfights punctuate grammar like an exclamation mark.
You clone another you, spat from the womb cold;
A mother’s love wrapped in smoke of cozened blue.
There is no end to your ambition.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
A badge without condition bought cheap, from a thrift store
Lies with brass medals and plastic ribbon, from uncaring hands.
A paid add on the paper floor, claps on the back from glad-hands,
Claps for marrying poor, she’s worth it, all her rotten core.
You walk with conceit, when the army stamped it’s boot,
A doctor’s note, before the sarge could break your seat.
Readies from your parent’s purse, a hand-out on the brew.
You queue for ****** on the roads in a pimped-out hearse.
Slurred words drawl from the dark, blood spit on the street,
Fistfights punctuate grammar like an exclamation mark.
You clone another you, spat from the womb cold;
A mother’s love wrapped in smoke of cozened blue.
There is no end to your ambition.
