ARTIFICIAL BLUES
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Poem by: Philip Roberts
I've got those polystyrene plastic
Artificial blues,
All the good things in life
Are now left unused.
My milk is mere powder
Powder and warm water,
My diet is receding,
Can't get much shorter.
My clothes are synthetic
Pathetic artificial wool,
The world has been taken over
By such bloody fools.
Even my meat now
Is really just rice-bread,
Instead of real wheat
Now I'm eating lead.
Artificial coloured
And sweetened too,
Artificially preserved now
And tasting like spew.
THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts
© Copyright 2018 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.
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