Drugs

 

Everyone in this place 

Must be on drugs

How else could they  

Stand these indignities

 

Only this accounts 

For the lack of love

Their feelings must be

Encased daily

 

Every day a man 

begs for bread

In a car of people

Well-dressed, well-fed

 

Not a single person

Crosses his palm 

He's us and we

Don't give a damn

 

Everyone escapes

High on themselves

Too tired to confront

A vicious reality

 

It's in and out

Of our hands

Lost in mirrors

Ending madly