rage against the machine

that keeps you
pokes and prods
pricks and feeds
from the marrow
of your soul

blood and toil
aren’t that hard
to come by

we know this

there’s always
someone willing
to work for less

more to come
hurry up and wait

tread that mill
like you mean it

mean it

fill the empty spaces


of heart

that will later

be erased

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

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