Criptic Critic Conscience and Known for it

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

I'm feeling real generous, so here's one before I sleep,

I am already old,
I 'm tird, i'm beat
 I have no debt that I can live up to
I die owing, the bank owns me like a slave.

you see those over there,
those old people,
lot in their heads, trying to get out
 to no where
 There is no where for them to go,
we give them only death. The hard working the shoulders that we stand on
We give them nothing, just death to wait for as they live.

I'm already old
 I have no earth to wake for,
no life that is mine to dispense with as a king
 I am not even a god,
not one that works for one either.
Our greatest minds are attached to people whose greatest
 accomplishment is that they were caught.
Caught this close carrying the keys' from the entrance. on the way out
 They werre caught, with a baby grand piano
 an elephant a gun
 I dont know, their sex, their childhood, memoires of their mother,
that's the way they do it, the game of bait and hook , cant get off the line if the barb is you trying to remove it, No sense in pretneding you aint been hooked of course you ahve
 look  at m sitting here you don't see my in your head communicating like I otta, instantly tlelpathically, with a friend in mind, I am yours… no i've subsititiuted alltime all existence for a scope of history, a linear time tile, marking out  space in the big time and space vault, this flesh keeps threatening to play as important, and boom there it is you got me, conventional, running up the home plate dropping the ball back side of my pants fall opening, gonads prod and measured, Sold at the market of your choice, and evidentially mine, This idea of good.

I want another.
who will challenge me.
I'm tired, I'me beat..
I'm old.

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