Allsorts of Stuff


There’s a drought in the world of words

Ain’t you heard

There’s pauses instead of punctuation

There be spaces instead of words

Cos the worlds dry


There ain’t no clouds in the sky

No water gonna fall from on high

Just vultures sweeping down from the sky

Feasting on the ones who don’t survive

This worlds dry


Fire from the volcano of ice

Ironically freezing peoples inspiration

Keeping people in their concrete jungle, frozen

fumbling with the working stress

I digress


This worlds dry

Burnt by the fires of time

Technology ebbing away slowly the mind

Before humanity drowns in a sea of radiation, or burns to the ground

Feel down


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