6/Feb/2017
Monday, 11:41 AM

 

Death was on sale today
Writhing souls were displayed across the streets of this wasteland
Screeching for buyers.
They shamelessly waved their hands
On the passerby
“Take me, I’m yours”
They’d even let you
Ambush their brain for a pot of artificial gold
Just to feel something.

Death was on sale today
I was ready to buy it to replace my worn-out life:
Faded blue with holes on its knees
They offered me an extra fabric to wrap my wounds
With the price of a slit and a hand-me-down pill
What a great deal for quick relief.
But death was sold when I reached the aisle
Bought by a man in suit
For his yearly charity
I frowned until the person at the counter told me
“One day, you’ll get it for free”

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