His life ticked by

Like a broken watch. 

The media and Web

Trained him to pick a side. 

He rolls down the velvet path

Clicking on choice pieces

Of carrion so dry and tough 

The maggots reject them

Looking for juicy truth

Over dried flecks of bitter dreams. 

He fools himself looking

At the other side

Tick tock tick tick

Bastards are wrong

Nothing is right. 

The slave to the master

What else should I believe

  • My life is gone and you’re my pillow. 
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