Thursday, August 27, 2009

tired, wired, uninspired .


(copyrighted image)

Scrape.

this ray of sun,
it pissed on fun.
frozen to shock,
the solid block.


no time for awake;
your bodys a shake.
nerves scrape a spin,
at the cost of any sin.

escaping the pavement;
raping every cravement.
numb desires overlooked,
this soul is overcooked.

but its breathing,
and we're teasing.

now we'll plot to hound,
a reerected revolution -
to grow it on a bound,
of some stolen solution.

;[signed]

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