The cold creeping horror of death , the stench of death in a melted toxic candy ass world of Aristocratic dreams
Touch the teeth of steel that becomes the vampires wings
Listen to Spring, it will turn your life around
Who needs the toil, the wear and tear of the human decay
You are alive, but very different
So let's kill the world beneath the toes, it only nurtured a race
People are such lovely things to step on and manipulate
You do it with golden globes of moving pictures and rhetoric
Icicles hang from your nose, coming from the nuclear winter
A new world does not come
The future is to be filled with stupidity
Both sides are nonsense, nothing makes sense like nonsense
Who needs Hercules, a few witches would do nicely
They poison the world with pollution
The literate few become food for the riparian masses
The earth is changing, turning into something that serves no master
There is no push that man cannot take
Like the roach we survive but do we prosper
We all want to live the dream life, be the good and fair
Without pain we have no life
Well what can you do but change the cocoon of thought that bereaves us
Insanity hangs on in the cities of neon and painted gold streets
For those who wait, strike your own path and wipe all impediments from the face of the earth.
Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas
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