Projected Reality

Drunk,
Dead:
Lost in themselves.
Forcefed life, locked in a cell.

And they be shootin up everynight.
Exhuming vain contusions.

Homogeneity,
everybody's the same;
but most these motherfuckers wont realize it
until every body's the same.

Inheritance deferred.

Rest in peace
to my brothers,
lost,
inside these
cement walls and steel bars.
Ill pour out a little liquor
drop,
after drop,
after shot.

Don't forget the bigger picture
looking through broken bottle shards.