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Quicksand for the Masses

June 23, 2010

Quickly the quicksand becomes your embrace
A mirage on the desert floor
The most beautiful and lavish life
A façade to death’s cold door
The muck only seems to thicken
With a cozy comfort glow
Piling high your Gabana
Shoving Stuff all down your throat.
Losing time to live your life
With only time to buy
To work and store
No growth
No more
Celestial stars don’t shine.
Not like shiny chromy dubs
Not when begets can hold your love.

While you catch your breath and shake your head,
From the material sepulchred bed,
And reach out to grab some more.
Cuz Stuff you cannot live without
You need some Stuff some more;
Sink deeper into the muck
Each stroke a death knell struck
And under pretty clothes
And Diamonds that shine bright
Is the dark decay
A void so deep
Forgotten by the light.

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