Fake 2003-03-09

Faster, towards the finish line,
Cannot hear my anguished cries.
Been in the dark far too long,
The light begins to hurt my eyes.

The stupid sheep that follow me
Blindly plead to immortalize.
I cannot do but disappoint,
The wall I build, it fortifies.

Blood is smooth and silky red,
Like the secret dark between your thighs.
I cannot go, I'm too scared,
It will only demoralize.

Rotten, sick, and dying still,
My only friends--the buzzing flies.
Laid to rest, I finally wake,
I find reality when my body dies.

copyright 2003 Michael Drace Fountain