Erm... another miscarriage of a poem or one that just needs some time in the prenatal care unit? Can't tell yet.
It's the same old you
The same old me
Just the rise of technology
Distract the man on the street
Keep him blind
To the hand of the elite
Something that hit me, perhaps as the start of a spoken word piece.
Do some women think of their children like I think of the results of dinner at Del Taco? Do they think to themselves, "Well that was marginally satisfying. What is this brewing in my gut? Oh no not the cramps!" Perhaps they look down and stare at the product of their efforts and repeat something similar to my thoughts, I put in all this work for such a small result? You'd think it would have turned out a little bigger. I pushed and sweated for all this time and now I have this. Do these same women wish that they could have flushed their children away like a Macho burrito?
It's the same old you
The same old me
Just the rise of technology
Distract the man on the street
Keep him blind
To the hand of the elite
Something that hit me, perhaps as the start of a spoken word piece.
Do some women think of their children like I think of the results of dinner at Del Taco? Do they think to themselves, "Well that was marginally satisfying. What is this brewing in my gut? Oh no not the cramps!" Perhaps they look down and stare at the product of their efforts and repeat something similar to my thoughts, I put in all this work for such a small result? You'd think it would have turned out a little bigger. I pushed and sweated for all this time and now I have this. Do these same women wish that they could have flushed their children away like a Macho burrito?
