Benjibopper

I walked into your white room
Charlie Sheen on the TV
The ceiling was cracked
and there was money all around
Charlie was stressed
and you were wet
And there was pieces of technology
falling on the ground

Some in my hair
as you cried your way down
and down my spine
in witch's chills
I waded through it all
the technology spills
"The bleeding hearts
will have a field day now,"
boomed the man with three fingers
eating raw cow

Charlie's dad was crying
he'd been a bad father
you'd played with me
like a Harley King's daughter
the house was creaking
and my head was sore
From those pieces of technology
landing on the floor

Pieces of technology
falling on the ground
hitting my head
as you sob on down
to the sensitive parts
that you wore right out
so only pieces of technology
can kill my doubts
that this place is as bad
as folks make it out to be

Pieces of technology
falling on me

Maybe one day
we'll learn to stop this machine
So we won't need a movie
to warn us against greed
And we won't need the likes
of Charlies Sheen

We'll have pieces of technology
crashing all around
Food for the hungry
and counseling for the down

Labels: Poetry