Looking through broken glass
at this disjointed scene unfolding
and defamiliarizing my surroundings
no one had ever told me
it wasn't easy
Trying to break through this
illusion of sentimentality
the quick and the righteous
inject hot-shots of fake reality
Walking through this
fractured smoke-screen
becoming ecstatically grateful
for your emphatic empathy
doctoring the healthy
and taxing the poor
becomes the new piety
Addicted to these therapeutic hits
becoming junked-out social cases
the rehab process a primitive hell
that forces a flawed resurrection of an empty shell
when will it end?
With us.
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