Trend Kill
By Danw
Cliché, Consistent without change A trend set, To follow, without use of brain Do as I tell you too never as you wish to do You’ll just fall flat, on your ass Following the path, with closed eyes Your only fear, to improvise It’s a curse, not a fucking religion I, I’m laughing not with you Conspiring, to free you Conspire to lead them, in a new direction Conspire to leave them your not my fucking possession A glance in the mirror, brings tears to eyes Of you and every man before, who never thought to try Stray from the path, for inside of your head lies Something improvised Written February 26th, 2002 © on Feb 26 2002 01:57 AM PST 10 • 0
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"Cliché, Consistent without change..."