anger and coffee and too much thought about trivial people

Bleating in denial
the human sheep whimpers
in bitter resigned tones
that it is unlike the rest

the thoughts in your brain
the ache in your heart
the words on your tongue
the sighs of your bones

its all been done before.


You are false.

Constructed under the same moon
made from the same cosmic grime
drinking the same sorry
land tears
as the rest
of the rotten human race

your words are constructs
of exposure to media pretense
and people perhaps you will never meet

your thoughts a combination of
darkest desire and intimate fantasy
peppered with the illogical
of 3 year aged babe

and yet,
the degree of pain;sadness;joy;exulsion;pleasure;desire;anger
the same confusion,
the same ideas,

the same love

You are unique to yourself,
but so like the rest.

The End

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