I lay here, like a fish long dead
Limp, lifeless
Glazed,
Gaping mouth tilted up towards the ceiling
Misted with the dew of sweat
And starting to smell

Fresh out of the pan
The vigor of my youth long
Departed
Regarded not as equal
But cannon fodder

For the masses
Infesting the grease smeared
Hub of hunger

Beta in a sea of sharks
Gilling a slow sluggish
Slop

Thank god, this bed is where I have longed to be all night long.