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Aug 2011
I have forgotten to point my eyes
Toward a sky that is unforgiving
I have been fooling myself
The apple spiced lies which fell from my tongue
Are now rotten and maggot infested lumps
Of brown bumpy ignorance
Time is here but not here
Time is the weight which we all cannot see
As I step through the madness of this world
See the horror in men's and women's eyes
Unable to speak of it
I walk on atop the cracked dirtied sidewalk
To companies that do not need me
To people that do not know me
To a love
Which is false and forced
How do you escape from the toiling twister that is this reality?
What is the breaking point when one turns to
Religion
The bottle
Or the gun?
I am curious of these things
I am hot on the trot toward these inevitable winnings
The greats which we admire
The one's we salute and called sire
Were all caught up in this spinning cyclone of catastrophe
They were not released, they were not freed, they were
Remembered for their madness
So perhaps
I'm on my way
Written by
Mitchell
611
   Chelsea Anne Palmer and ---
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