I want to say I'm happy,
But I'm not.
Honestly I'm terrified
And these half-truths you're feeding me
Leave me floundering, drowning.
We promise ourselves one thing
Then give ourselves another.
No one stops for a break because
We're already broken.
You convinced me we should strive
For it, told me we could survive
On hatred and greed;
That nagging hunger we've got to feed.
My head's buzzing,
Drums are pounding,
Funeral march is our new procession
Clinging to that all-important want: possession.
We don't own it, it owns us
Crumbling foundations, skeletons rust
In our machine bodies, but nobody cares
We are all so utterly unprepared
For what must come, the inevitable.
Cyanide by Audrey H. (c)2009
I feel angsty today.