Jones

Hold it all in, hold it tight,
Never breathe it out, plight,
Suffer in silence, safer for all,
No worries, no answer, so, no call.

The world around me gone mad,
Joined it before it was ever had,
Mercy does not exist, they lie,
Worthy things left out in the son to die,


Cannot escape if you cannot run,
Internal malady, melody of no one,
Temptation to live, no more dialouge,
Arteries once open, slow, clogged.

Defecit from your profit, how does it feel?
to be wanted, to be, to fly, to become real,
Told the rabbit he’d be naught, skin and bone,
Nothing to escape to, this want me, love me, hate me, kill me jones.
-Thomas Spychalski