2011/05/11

Spillover - 2011/05/11

So many drums beat
An army of strides
Which shall I pick
They do not decide

That is their trick
You alone do choose
So when they change
You alone will lose

The game is so fun
For the dumb elite
Who never do share
A standard to meet

An open air prison
Doors are my walls
Ignorance is guard
Roaming long halls

Leaving sans plan
Is simply suicide
Yet with children
I will not reside

So march on friends
And pick the poison
That clouds purpose
Destroying everyone

My path lies beyond
In a place elevated
Though my departure
Shall be celebrated

When will it happen
I truly do not know
So for now I surive
Rhyming my overflow

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