deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bad Poetry
Sitting at a rickety deck,
In a messy kitchen
With a drink in a hand
A smoke in my mouth,
Questioning the age
We currently live in.
Last of a dying breed,
Society moves into
A new age,
Where communication
Is a tactile
Action that is used
In a virtual
World of oppression,
On the outside,
No one cares.
In a messy kitchen
With a drink in a hand
A smoke in my mouth,
Questioning the age
We currently live in.
Last of a dying breed,
Society moves into
A new age,
Where communication
Is a tactile
Action that is used
In a virtual
World of oppression,
On the outside,
No one cares.
Published 11th Jan 2014
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