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Rated: E · Poetry · Opinion · #1354401
Travelling home and how a high street makes me feel.
There are so many people here
What are the odds it’ll be me?
Driving down the lines, mesmerized
Lying down like meat in a fridge

I walk along side a conveyer belt
The garish lights of this machine flashing beside my eyes
Cold electricity tickles my throat
Standing on this shelf
Waiting for the trolley to cart me off home

Aisle after aisle, I can never get there fast enough
Chasing a dragon I’ll never catch
Why do I bother?
Only because the temporary pleasures make it bearable
© Copyright 2007 R.L.Whitehead (r.l.whitehead at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1354401-Im-Happy