deepundergroundpoetry.com
Our Madhouse
Where The Voice of Reason
is an act of Treason
Common sense
the rarest gift in existence
Time, the most valuable thing
is risked for the illusion of bling
Where the vast majority
cling to vestiges of ancestry
they bow their heads
confess their sins
to either a callous Power
or one deaf as Marlee Matlin
Where paper represents worth
precious Souls enslaved in its search
adherents to a stylized bullshit
hates,even kills those whose smells different
lies as deep as the Pledge of Liberty
permeate every town in every country
rather than risk exposing their voice
most people suck on distractions of choice
rather than meet and figure what`s right
us solitary seers sit on ass and write
I gotta believe that billions can see
our foundation`s fucked beyond Belief
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