for you, I'll see ya
when it's finished, through.
Transparent as their complexions pale
and as shallow
as undug graves,
They scurry out of their sewer
homes, to spread
those identical germs.
To crusade for their Fair Lady
Vanity, or whoever it is
this week.
And voyage across oceans
of insecurities.
They were seen
scene
obscene.
Offering themselves
for the sake of a step
up social hierarchy's ladder.
They were the sluts of junk.
Souls of empty.
Faces of gunk.
No comments:
Post a Comment