Workers are never built up,
Always broken on down,
Struggling to stay afloat?
They laugh when you drown.
Manager or slave master?
Imagine Earth's covered in plaster.
I'm breaking it off with a crowbar,
Crowley inspired A-Listers, Aleister.
Don't aspire to be like one of them,
Bowing down to apron wearing men.
Who wants to keep us in a low vibration?
These are human emotions, not a PlayStation.
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Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: February 16th, 2025 04:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: RSM0812
Offline)
Comments5
A most interesting read where a real majic in practice and theory shows through. Alister and his sex majic as he liked to spell it marked the wickedest man in the world.
Thank you, glad it resonated with you.
It could turn out the aliens are the good ones and we are the demons, enjoyed the read
Interesting way of looking at things, some people are demons I agree lol.
Great write
Much appreciated.
You're welcome
Some say - of course managers don't actually do any work - the employees do it all! lol.
Exactly lol
Doh! So it's true!
Chained like sheep in a barn we are to our masters
Indeed.
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