Little one you must see
Watch from a top your imagined castle
Peering out amongst the subjects of your deceitful
mind
Watching the pointy edge of the street
How you get pulled in by the sultry smells lofting
in the room
of freedom
Leaves the syringes to the goners
Crush them in powerful crunch
Your mind….boy
Is the tool in your back pocket
The dead will be strong and the living will be the
mad scientists
They will run the world in your existence or your
absence
Little ones drop that terrible monkey off your back
and be free
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