Underground_Network
May 10th, 2010, 03:00 PM
Suburbs of Saccharine Sulfur
Lungs caked with air,
It’s hard to breathe
In the corporate scene.
I moved to the suburbs
At the age of three,
It was not my decision,
It was my mother’s.
I woke up to sunshine
Or dusty clouds
Every morning
At precisely 8 A.M.
But then the clouds fell
And the sky caved in
And the suburbs lay in ruin,
Except for the saccharine sulfur,
A perfume essence in the air
Of empty valence.
Today the sulfur cakes my lungs
Like the air used to
And makes me wonder
What its like to breathe.
Lungs caked with air,
It’s hard to breathe
In the corporate scene.
I moved to the suburbs
At the age of three,
It was not my decision,
It was my mother’s.
I woke up to sunshine
Or dusty clouds
Every morning
At precisely 8 A.M.
But then the clouds fell
And the sky caved in
And the suburbs lay in ruin,
Except for the saccharine sulfur,
A perfume essence in the air
Of empty valence.
Today the sulfur cakes my lungs
Like the air used to
And makes me wonder
What its like to breathe.