this is a poem relating to my previous post on freedom.
suffocation
it's spinning round and round.
the pain, the claustrophobia.
in a gurgling whirlpool, drown!
or just plain paranoia?
twisters fill your head,
cos' the mind doesn't know.
if reality's so dead,
when will God's true plan show?
head cats have the say,
and many mice just follow.
old concrete, flat, passe.
and all of men, rot hollow.
twisters fill your head,
cos' your mind can't comprehend.
if all this has been laid,
what is freedom to a man?
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