Product - Penal Colony

Young and indoctrined

Pampered and sheltered

Amputation from sleep

A crash from the outside

Carefully groomed trees

The police have come home

Walking through the bad decisions

The drunken phone calls

I shouldn’t have heard

Straining for solace

My only diversion is a cul-de-sac

And a borderline belting

Me Generation

Now you’ve got a product

And the product is me

Free thinking user

Lower your suture

Now look what you’ve got

Me

Fear and loathing

The angst that is unknown

Waiting for my turn to come

He’s throwing in portraits

Damning the offspring

Coming on in monolithics

I waver above as my body reels and bruises and moans on the floor

Bones break open, I say nothing

The pain, it lingers like chain-smoke breath

Trust

Kiss it good-bye

Deal with the memory

Rise above it