Friday, September 11, 2009

Body Bags and Bloody Stumps

An amputee is up in arms
Revolting in applause
Dried up, dull red, his purpose lost
Just like crusted, bled-thru gauze

The psychotics are picking brains
Screaming in silence
Homeless, lost wits, at first glance
Strapped down, cast out, against the fence

So is this our choice?
Body bags or bloody stumps
Thorazine or stomach pumps
Is this our fate?
Asylum or execution
Lobotomy or mind pollution

The false prophets are crying truth
Preaching to the deaf
Lost race, blue face, shallow breaths
Nailed palms, noosed neck, awaiting death

All the mindless hired as experts
Teaching in the dark
Eyes peeled, sights set, on their mark
A quest to cure all bleeding hearts

1 comment:

  1. "Nailed palms, noosed neck, awaiting death" - I love this line. What a picture it paints.

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