Masses in multitude
exponential dreams
cover the inbetweens
Beneath the dirt and grime
these hands of mine
can't grip the game
it's all the same
old story over again
the same old pain
Building houses upon
the brittle bones
of those who's gone
Frail are the homes
for raiders of the old
raiders of the bought and sold
We are all pieces of the puzzle
tightly muzzled
Prevented from speaking
the truth we've been seeking
Tightly gripped secrets hidden
beneath creaking floor boards
Doing our bidding in the dark
away from the hordes
Afraid to light the spark
of judgement
Judgement leading to exklusion
massive prosecution
in the public eye
the green eyed spy