Hand-Me-Down Carbon

It might seem depressing, but it's just a short on death and sex. A weird combination, but interesting. Anyway, this is also about ignorance. Enjoy.

All of the people that covered their eyes,
all of those people meet the dirt, not the sky.
We all meet the dirt when we die.

They run their daily routines and watch the days replay,
assuming that the sky is crying in the form of rain.
It's just easier for the dirt to overlay
the bones we leave when we meet our fate.
The rain will tenderize our grave.

We found fun in our own skin,
acted naturally, and called it sin.
We have interviews, then let them in.
They have interviews and come on in,
because our time is short and our bodes, cold.


Little minds
just can't unfold.

 

The End

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