Haaaaaaaaa.
The clutter of traffic
Donates insanity from
The mutter of radios,
Like noises from a crowded room.
But as the birds chatter,
The madness is directed
Toward the wild animal
In front of you that
Chooses to putter along the
Black entrenched, simi-falt road.
And all that you can think of
Is the solitude within
Your room, as the music plays,
The fan rotates and the
Mind decides to relax.
But now you awaken from
Your peaceful dream, back
To reality of the never-ending
Hell that you are stuck in,
You’re a beast locked in its cage.

 
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