You hear me say that I am not done
and you shiver and shake
and prance like a clown with no nose
Your shiny veneer is off
but you know more is to come
Your battlecry rings holllow
For all now know you are reprehensible
You hide in the machine
but the machine doesn’t hide you
And, yet none of that matters
For I ain’t done with you yet
Categories: Culture, identity, Poetry, Psychology
Sound frightening!
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lol. Yah!
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