My take on being trapped in this society due to religion

Black fantasy, vague reality, I surpassed all that was meant to be. Graffiti lives, they create their own shackles. I broke mine. Not with strength or power, but by disbelieving. I created my own prison and gradually lost the key. Then I started recruiting. Window image lives I broke, I cut, I crushed. Blackboard canvas, the only paint I had was their blood stained urine. Gazed dreams I painted, falling down deeper into my own captions. Lying became the best illusion.

Submitted: December 16, 2011

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Clare Hill


Fri, December 16th, 2011 9:52pm

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