I overlived my time, but was it really mine,
Time stolen from the country less than an age ago?
Oh, brave new world! Big Brother’s watching us
Writhing in slime, in hunger and in pains.
We’re robbed again and spat in our face.
The cycle’s over. End has come to time.
Pigs just like men, Swift’s yahooes, Bosch’s visions –
All in one place. Their name is Legion.
They torture us. The pressure’s reached the crest
I’m wasteable. But what about the rest?
The rest is silence… I’m afraid eternal.
A contest entry
- Tell Me of Your Misery by thedarkestjolly.
315 points, ended May 6, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Short to the point I like it good luck -
the rest is silence...i to believe it will be eternal...thought provoking read my friend...have enjoyed it a lot and thank you kindly for sharing with me
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