E.I.-Proto V,IXA Poem by Lee W. Deason
I'm almost awake, just keep flashing the lights.
A little shaken but not stirred in the head. Hurry up and get dressed, now go to bed. Its so hard to remember anything you've said, to me while walking in the door. Words of disappointment. Send in the clown. To make sure he remembers, standing on embers. Pin him down and whisper, "It's for your own good." The institution is writing the okay, to progress. Here they come built after stripped, of pride. Religion blacked their souls out with lies for the insides. Of their fragile minds, rewind to chapter three, I saw my heart bleeding on... Words of disappointment. Send in the clown. To make sure he remembers, standing on embers. Pin him down and whisper, "It's for your own good." So open the door. It's the safest bet you have. So open the door. You're at the end of the corridor. Talk to me with tension. Fits best in the hand. The hand that feeds the capitol. The collateral damage to this b*****d. Words of disappointment. Send in the clown. To make sure he remembers, standing on embers. Pin him down and whisper, "It's for your own good." The institution of E.I.-Proto V,IX. © 2008 Lee W. DeasonAuthor's Note
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