[?7h

Chained to the Glow

Slave to the prime-time patriarch
Ensnared by the hypnotic glow
Of phosphorous and false smiles.
Your soap-opera saviors absolve you of sin
And fill you with distorted truths.
Trapped in a glass box, screaming like a mime,
Your mind becones a prisoner of complacency.
Resting only to revel within in the confines
Of the regent refrigerator.
You drag along the dusty road of life
Like a dead-end sitcom.


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Ä (c) June 1994   ÞÛÝßÛ ÛÛ ßß  Visions of Reality Lit Ä
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