The futile age old dream

Life clambers for the sun

A constant moving stream

The rabid and foaming run

Expel the curdled cream

For work has just begun


A welcome sight to feast

Pockets full of tendons

Crammed down throats deceased

The retching sound heard reckons

Feed the newborn beasts

Unknowing the time beckons


Honey drops a taste to trial

On mangled teeth with force

Inevitably sweet turns the bile 

meals enamoured with remorse

Rot and shape to form denial

Morbidity is now the course


Surveying the viscera by worth

With puckered eyes unblinking

Guzzled by the gallon from birth

Caught in the joyful act of winking

By offering the masses their mirth

You remove the burden of thinking 


Packaged products fly by night

Each over processed by degree

A raw surge waves against right

Harps the notes upon the sea

Savour each morsel sound bite

Delivered to homes thought free


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