Casket of Conformity
by
Alexis Child

 Possessive of a most craven poison
Inhale the stale stench of conformity
In closed casket of conventionality

Not a black tear was ever known
Not a mark in time
Listless resolution

 Blank face, not free to originate
Nothing are you or will you ever be
Deep in the womb of scrutiny 

 


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