To Society

Angst

Autumnal air

You know it well

You breath it; smell it

You feel its chill

It makes me ponder

It makes me ill

Something I strangely enjoy

Yet still --

I wonder deep down 

Behind defiling smoke,

"The life I live;

Is it a joke?"

Perhaps my flames are yours to stoke

If not, fuel them

And then I'll choke.

"I'll choke, I say, perchance to croak!"

I rest among the cold solemn stones

A suitable place to rest my bones

I wrap myself in fairy tales

Through forsaken ash and windless sails

Submerged below in a bottle, deep

Allow it passage to my soul, for keep

For I know life and I know it's cheap

Don't throw me your s**t

Don't ever weep!

I know what I am!

I'm an outshined sheep!

Your sorrows are yours --

Your own to reap!

I'll f**k my own life with poison and ash

While you fill yours up with overdosed, overspiced trash!