Stand of Illusions

Slaving away for the least they can pay
say what I feel
in this stand of illusions
my shield is keeping it real
to me I see who I am
in front of a gun
or threatened with being canned
wherein I find
no where left to go except back
into the flow
of creativity
perpetual nativity
erasing naivety
enlightening my heart
and the city around me
i’m sort of at home
in this endless drone
of civilized mechanical pseudo-life
though star lights often no longer shine
but are long gone like extinct animals
instinct is my sword.


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