Life stuck here, what's the end goal?
Living in a one way open fish bowl,
I don't want to be a recycled soul,
Sent back into another body whole,
Puppets masters want us to pay a toll,
Looking out for the ones really in control,
My mind works overtime, speculation on a stroll.
-
Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2026 03:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2

Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.