"All The World's Stage"
Inside a box of glass and wires,
Sentimental words uttered from the mouth of the tired,
With forceful attempts to inspire,
Subtraction of comprehension to add the fuel to the fire,
These liars tether the gullible, Control over the next move,
Till a spark reveals the truth that the camera man shoots,
Their blinding light brews a fight or flight mood,
Influencing these impartial type of views,
Lonely souls yearning for an alternate release,
Peeking out from the darkness under their stained sheets,
One sentence away from the false sense of feeling complete,
Fading thoughts of eventually reaching that peaceful retreat,
But the back of the mind confines a deadly plan,
Drips of crimson red causing messy hands,
A heavy burden latched onto the belt in his pants,
Starting a journey back to the haunting memories of his past,
At last, the crumpled bills are forked over to a lost soul,
Recruiting another follower on the long road,
A thousand foot steps still the end doesn't show,
Frustration turns to loathing, Time fading and cutting close,
Withering hopes, The sight of a smile leads to panic,
The brain contains the rage but the hand does the damage,
Repremand it, At a disadvantage surrounded by badges,
Spot the precise holes that cant be covered with a bandage,
Block out the scene, Regrets of deciding on that fateful choice,
Deafening claps... The laid out fleece is getting moist,
The tired speaks again, Now scanning the voids on that damaged boy,
They may have taken his last breath but never could take his voice,
One click of a button; static noise.
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