Monday, May 10, 2010

71. Never stop yelling

Polished verbal projectiles, poised to pounce on the unsuspecting masses.
 
I take the abuses of the day and make them my own.

Something tangible, fuel.
Something I can feel, fever.
Something that is going to separate me from the rest, one day.
It's never been about us, it's always been about "them"
Us and them.


I hear you.

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