sitting in the cubicle
cold like an icicle
that was a road i didn´t ride
and now it´s tearing me up
i was a pup
an amorphous mess
without a driving wheel
mummy, daddy
what strange convoluted
stupid conspiracy
between us three led to this ?
you loved me
but between us
we produced a poor result
hurts me to speak thus of myself
self-preservation rebels against these words
words of an age
but the sounds
and the fury
keeps me alive !
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