by ILWL on Mon Feb 25, 2008 1:55 pm
'Grab em by the balls and their hearts & Minds are sure to follow'
Nose pressed hard on frosted glass
Gazing as the swollen mass
On concrete fields where grows no grass
He stumbles blindly on
Iron trees smother the air
Withering they stand and stare
Through eyes that neither know nor care
Where the grass is gone
