deepundergroundpoetry.com

OPIUMEDIA

In this day and age
Sickened I am, below the stage
As such mediocrity is praised
This, vomit on a page
Expelled from a pretty face

Health measured by pockets
Youth drains from their sockets
Chauffeured by content
Red wine and politics
A dollar spent for a cent

These days I'm alone
Yet better than a year ago
I feel it in my bones
But there's no ache to show
Until the WiFi is slow

And we would pay to kill
Or pay to watch
Just to vent our frustration
A gunpowder vacation
Our solipsist nation

Yet some already do
Had enough of it
Tapped on the shoulder
A handshake with Satan
Our fucked generation

It's more a rant than a poem
And for good reason irate
Cannot even bloody connect
Dinner table, more an ocean
Blame those fucking mobile games