An Ode to Landscaping

Keep your edges on game.
Maintain, clean shave.
Burn the remains of life slain to regain control of a brain
That won’t stop you living in pain.
Don’t pay for sins til clouds spit on your grave.
What’s in a name
But a soul; control.
Nine number’s all it takes to harvest energy like cattle.
Don’t think you’re not chattel.
A mastermind no; but a system on fire
Ever searching for a buyer of higher designer ideologies
That simmer men to create psychologies.
Reduced to nothing but the need to repent and beg apology
For daring to set foot atop a crust of a bludgeoned rock under an unloving god.
So what’s the shock
When your grass keeps growing
When your ignorance keeps showing
When you follow the script but still don’t fit it.
What’s your limit
Your mind’s a hornet’s nest, ain’t it best not to kick it?

Categories: Poetry, Thoughts | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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