see the top of my head
as you enter the room
under the house at the table
call it a living tomb
but a room just the same
place to rest the head
resting in between daze
working probably until I’m dead
or can’t move because
of all the work I have done
not saying much still
you need to catch up
if you’re behind above all
just wake the fuck up
know that everything they say
has been lies
everything before eyes
is it really a surprise
look at the news is it
ever straight up factual report
opinions and paid shills
the talking heads contort
the truth into a package
to consume
once awake the anger
might consume
the mind like it’s done
to mine at times
mostly just thoughts
occasionally rhymes
scattered and littered
all over the page
sitting head down writing
not standing on a stage…
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