Misery Index

Crawling from the cities the filth chokes me to the taste,
feeding the desire to destoy this culture that I hate,
the daily inquisition, the fear that fuels our lives,
sets each man against the other with the wool upon our eyes.
Chains of comman
the weight of wait
under their wheels into concrete
face off the floor
rise up
retaliate
The razor blade infections out caverns deep across my skin
Reminding me of battles I have lost and will never win
There are no bullets here