Most distractions
are committed by adoration
If there
were only less people
Then one
could stand out
In a world
of seven billion
There are no
individuals
The genetic
code has run its course
Every conceivable
combination has been unlocked
What’s next?
These short
bursts of thought that mean nothing
I’m not
curing cancer here
Just drinking
and whining
Yet I deserve
the best
But if it
came to thinning the herd
I would gladly
give my throat
This
misanthropic lifestyle that hasn’t killed me yet
Will be the
death of me soon
No matter if
THEY take over or not
I will be
lost to my own long before
I sit daily
and moan with pain and apathy
Others spring
with joy
Like toys mass
produced in long lines and twelve hour work days
with fifty percent divorce rates
Prescription
DRUGS and four hour plane delays
That’s theirs
to decide
We have to finish
as strong as we started
From this view point it doesn’t look so good
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