Hands clawing outward from a mass grave
Mouth gasping for air,
Lungs filled with invisible smog
Mind too indoctrinated to care

Pressed in against the walking dead
Face to face, toe to toe –
Clammy fingers entwining by seeing
Unseeing eyes staring into a blank void you well know

Drifting with the metal cage
Jerking back, coasting sideways, never flinch
Some escape, more cram in –
Nearing hellish Purgatory inch by inch

A screeching halt, your turn to flee –
Into the glass maze obediently file
Skinner's rats – jolted by punishment
Yet tomorrow you’ll do it again – another card on the pile.