Caged in eclectic behaviors
dribbling down past the windscreen
a glance is all it takes, it seems
to turn the carnage to pleasant days
and vice versa
what will I say when all I've ever wanted was to fragment
the day-to-day. What will happen when she breaks the silence.
talk now or cry later.
a repetitive cry to drown out with vices and sadder times.
whomever created this survival game is as infected as politicians. now.
ultimatums curry favors, but I hold neither strength nor endeavors.
men are protectors, but left to daily devices, sightless to maniacal hive mind heist striders above favors.
now it seems we're the ones in need of saviors