Through a compound eye,
Multi faceted questions
Always asking why?
No food on the planet
But, rockets in the sky,
No drugs for the sick
The wealthy getting high.
My head spins around
My glass is empty and dry,
Lethargy is inbuilt in me
Can't be arsed to try.
I'll make circles around the light
Just like a maligned housefly,
Because just like them
We walk through shit
Until it's time to die.
Phil Hall December 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment