Hey! I'm you from twenty years hence,
Where dreams are sold at ten a pence.
Your life is a DVD displayed on a shelf,
Not one moment for you by yourself.
It reeks of monotone, the air you breathe,
Dull as your grave and its lifeless wreath.
Why bother if the mightier have a harder fall?
Irreverence this day comes cheap after all.
A brooding mind-mist, clouding and stalking,
Fogs our minds till death comes knocking.
Plug yourself in the wall and face another day,
Artificial ecstasy that comes to spirit you away.
Plant that mask that imitates a face with a smile,
Lie, cheat, steal, give into it for a while.
Feel that clawing from your insides, its a force,
Drags you to the present, through unopened doors.
I like it Son
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