Friday, 8 January 2010


We used to live at pace
To consolidate the cost
Of purchasing a place
That now is lost.

There once occurred a show
Commencing at the end,
With nowhere left to go
It began again.

It told official tales,
And proceeded quietly,
And always, always failed
To move me.

We used to show a face
That condemned the enemy
Who was anyone with a case
Of vanity;

There once upon a time
Was conscience in denial
Until the factory line
Stood idle.

It never had a choice,
The consigned never do,
The emaciated voice
Of institutes.

We used to be a lover,
We used to hate pretence,
But now there is no other

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