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Old Table

Trash

Depths of tiring hell
A hate-filled story to tell
Directed at the throngs of man
Flowing across the land

With mystery creatures mellow
Crawling on bellies; yellow
Who do not want to believe
Who feed off garbage with ease

This intestinal tract I am caught in
Envelopes the soul that is within
Paid to regret the failure
And made to protect the jailor

I’d rather look at the trash can
Than the faces surrounding me

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