Poetry

 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.