Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Pushwell watches the last rays of the sun stream through his living room window, another day gone by, some things you just can t take back, and thats what it comes down to. he looks at her and all becomes clean and clear, the tired day, the gliding down the hallways of sick and dying, , of his own made maze the useless conversations of his so called superiors, sitting there listening , running around at their command, all becomes so worthed when she smiles when he watches her read her books and listens to her voice , her words like music make it all come at a easy cost, waking up in the morning and there she is laying next to him with her body against his wrapped up in their own made up dreams.
But pushwell knows there is another world out there, a dying world, he can see it in the sun, its a sick sun, the clouds dont move the way they are suppose to, he sees it in the traffic jams, the faces, no one is happy , really , nine out of ten wish they were somewhere else it seems,he can almost read their minds, always cursing, always hating, no patiance, the center is collapsing and its time to get the hell out , every cell in his body screams out in his dreams at nights, he listens to their conversations and its all about how it used to be so much better, how everyone is being pushed around by forces and situations, totally out of their own control, and the fan is not turning shit hit it so much, all sit , in a pool of green slime, earth has no more souls left to give.

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