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December 29, 2013

Skimming over the surface of existence

offering little thought of resistance

the crowd play their petty game

sad, predictable, but mostly tame

flitting from one object to another

irrelevant chit chat and bother

The L.C.D. is the intended goal

Torture and abuse to the soul

A drink covers an empty life

worthy of a wrist-cutting knife

make-up masks the tears

and the unvoiced fears

as eternal darkness nears.

Watching on as an alien.

the point seeming most salient

is that the only ties people form

is for protection from others storm

it is all convenience and lies

a shielding facade from intruding eyes

To break through the surface would be nice

but I bet all to be found is cold, black ice

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