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Panic Machine

As I thrash about I think of the times

before me. . .

How could I have wandered less

and put faith into something more?

Or would I otherwise end up at the

starting point?

Reaching, just as I am?

Reliquishing power to the odd gods

Welcome to the Panic Machine

These gears grind up the povert

Cast the weak into the jaws of Death

Mania comes in droves upon the

daily news

Salvation quickly played as a fool

I will not succumb to your fantasies

of hate

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Written by
blackcatpoetry
41 / M / Jersey Shore, NJ
Published
Jan 15
Lines·Words
16·88
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