Friday, March 21, 2014

The End


When the end comes on suddenly
Only my brain will be surprised
To see that I have won control
From the miseries he's reprised.

I must surely work in secret,
Concealing my true intentions,
Hiding from his omniscient gaze
My nefarious inventions.

Perhaps a drop of cyanide
Mixed in with my daily rations?
Or razor blades sewn in my cuffs
While sporting the standard fashions?

But like an inmate daydreaming
Of sunsets and the morning tide,
At last my senses return me
To the prison where I reside.

So while I scheme against my brain
To find an exit from this life,
He keeps me bound to those I love,
Immune to my internal strife.

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