The satire of thoughts turn to the mob!

A mad, disorganised,nonsense write of Gangster thoughts in mind!

The cleaners took care of your thoughts,
the barber kept them in check, trimmed,
while insurance had them protected,
your body had you serviced, oiled.
But your thoughts were not free
governed by the mind, controlled,
the freedom was fenced,
within the range of organised speech,
educated, you were suited to
look the part, to fit in
while the music played
wasn’t your song,
you were told to go along.
Who lets the cat
out of the bag
in the corrupted playground of mind
while the dog is barking
up the wrong tree
and you find yourself
out on that limb.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i have been out on that limb enough to have learned how to hang by my fingernails....ha ha.

really liked the play on words here.
j.