Who's Laughing Now?
By Dillon Collins
The weight of the laughter, crushing the room.
The whispers of madness, encroaching doom.
Maniacal mind, twisted as sin,
ah my love, insanity, we meet again.
It starts with forgetfullnes, the loss of a thought.
Do they have friends? Less often than aught.
They're a few cards short of ten fingers on a hand,
just like a baby piano that isn't quite a grand.
Mobile manequenn, don't remember why your there.
Don't even like these clothes but they were chosen for you to wear.
Thousands of people exactely like you,
dwell in this place till the second their through.
Dying or collapsing is all for the best,
not as bloody as snapping but still, a great test.
The bars of the cages are all in their minds,
as they live in this state of events called the times.
Rats in the trash, and the kids with bare feet,
do we care enough to bring them in off the street?
The times of justice to the wealthy and few,
perhaps we're not the ones who are crazy. Are you?
