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A Binge on Adolescence

The World does not see you for who you are.

The World sees you as naive meat

to **** on and bones to crack,

Fingers to snap and eyeballs to steep.

 

We are the ingredients of **** stew.

The garnish on top are the dreams,

The hopes, the high stars, and the shine.

We are the slaves to the Fathers.

 

Turning the wheel and choking on bread,

We are the broken and hopeless.

Never run, never feel the sun.

There's no white beginning.

 

Stuck in the sidewalk cracks

Under old Rots' heels and toes,

We will wilt like weeds growing

In the grunge of crumbling cities.

 

So to calm our tears and abide our fears,

We lift a bottle to cheer and fate.

Pop a pill to escape our hate

And bring a daze of past worlds.

 

There, in our crevices and rifts,

Our molded eyes will mar all future

Like all we've been taught to uphold

Will decay, façades will melt away.

 

Eventually, there will be no chains.

There will be no choking.

There will be no greed or want.

Blood will never flow and hate will have no go.

There will be no rust.

There will be no spoiled.

This world will be a pasture

With rivers of milk and honey.

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Written by
genevive-louise-sweeney
American
Published
Jun 14, 2010
Lines·Words
32·213
Permission

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