Sunday, February 21, 2010

Untitled 15

In a world there draft can condemn you to death, and all can get it, youre already dead. Your soul is sold with no right to grow old. No right to fight. all hate for fate. Medias my encyclopdia. Technology my anthropology for apology. Uniform multiform, smug drug hugs and fling rings. Meaningless speaches and security breeches.

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