The green ones, The yellow ones, The red ones, The blue. Advertised on the TV To cure me and you. You swallow it down.. If one's good, why not two? And before you know it OOPs...they got you! An ad, a doctor A script...no more pain Just feel the sunshine We'll stop all the rain! They fail to tell you The price is your soul, Your mind, then your body. We've not far to go, A moot destination that's angry and cold And someone left dying, When 30 feels old. Yet all of the people Somehow fail to see That we area all connected... And what kills you, it also kills me. Melissa W. 2006
That is not a poem, since it lacks the basic essence, as they say... soul... of a poem. It's more of a jingle that's arranged as a poem.
Whatever, if it's not a poem, it's some fucking writing, so get over yourself. Hell, I wrote it 4 years ago anyfucking way!!!! And FUCK METAL, rubin
it's a good poem: it points out the triteness of our lop-sided materialistic consumer lifestyle. The only time a poem is soulless is if the poet does not really mean what they say- that is definitely not the case here. M.C.A.A.H.N.Y!
ya, opiates to dull your senses. don't feel anythimg just go with the flow eventually you will find yourself in the middle of the Pacific mess.... in the middle of the churning junk-pile! (weak entreaty- save the oceans!)
