6-18-89
A burnt out skull returns from work each day
A walking corpse with nothing left to say
The TV screen could just as well be black
But it's always on, though you're lying on your back
In case you didn't know, it's 1989
And it's been five years since you've cared enough to try
When your stomach growls, you answer to its call
But you're unfulfilled by the temporalness of it all
What a shame not to have a mind
Back to work again, it's the same old grind
What you had as a personality
Evaporates as you sit down to drudgery
What a shame it is not to have a mind...
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.