your cut up shins and bandages,
All the monsters in your head that rot bhind the closed curtain.
smoothered in a sugar slime.
Your sheltered children are sick to sight,
your sequent masks are far to bright.
What happen to the dream I knew of war and abstract, rape, tatoo?
The boundries we once broke and spilt,
now caution signs, blocked, rebuilt.
Candy coated with morals and tamed,
We should all be ashamed,
Sedated like zombies, untouched and clean.
Your pretty-pink predicament, your happy-hoaxed dream.
Ill from the smileing world that you dream to offend,
like the villions in gossip behind fine china friends.
Searching for rainbows and tickets to fame,
though happiness in murder, in mahem and pain.
Indulge in your fears and replenish the Id,
To truley be happy, shrowded in bliss.
Now return to your fake world, hide back in your shit,
one day you'll see to much sugar makes anyone sick.