Don't want anymore.
The friendly reminder of duty whores.
Bruises of justice and scars of success.
Future scare.
Money stores.
Today I live with the hope of tomorrow.
I'm taking my blue purple diamond.
My friendly reminder of pain unhealed.
Bruises of time and scars of years.
Passer by puppets swaying in the wind.
Always in congress with masters fuck up life lesson.
Raising children without reason.
Mindless in the race.
Of sex, drugs, money, power and growth.
In the land of endless plenty, they'll be justice for most and nothing for all.
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoesíaSad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
