Running
Out of Gas
I
am a poor man inside a blank wall.
I
don't find anything wrong with the way I am.
I
think therefore the light is dim.
I
am behind on things. I belong swinging on
chains.
The
world is terrible. No one wants to help
anyone
anymore, things get worse by the second.
I
don't have any second chances.
My
money is running out. I'm running out of
time,
and
running out of gas,
the
clock ticks on the wall.
I
have found shelter but it is inadequate.
The
day grows long. I find holes in your reasoning,
for
reasons unknown.
There
is a grass stain on my knees.
I
was running through a field of roses.
The
roses are defective, but that can be changed.
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