A crooked lady lived in a crooked house
in a crooked land
among those hills lay towns
where good money was paid
for the graces, ticking days, living flesh of inmates
in this land, the dead were sold for profit
and the souls of the poor and neglected
did not matter
disposable crooked almost zombies
haunted the streets of this land
struggling to get by
never encouraged to reach up and into their own depths
an endless feeding tube they were
tattered flesh fed to the already fattened cats
perched high in the mountains
transported by glistening vehicles
to creamy and mouthwatering mansions
where do the free belong?
must I hide my dreams from the crook in my spine?
who is stealing opportunity instead of expanding
or seeing potential in every face born from darkness into earthly light?
a land among lands torn
manufacturing suffering
from a brain spewing endless not enough messages
while an abundant garden of wide-eyed children look on
minds lulled by the speeding and chaotic pictures
that take away their best self
to beyond the veils of never-never land
adamevenevenadam 