it is not yet over

poetry

they don’t tell you what to do
when the high wears off
and you are left feeding on slop
day in and day out

in a big cage
suspended in air
and seemingly
suspended in time
and lined with springs
for to absorb the shock
from any momentum
you may have had or will have

they weren’t your friends
but enemies before
and enemies hereafter
and that’s why they didn’t tell you
is what you finally realize

don’t let it be too late

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