Store brand bland

I feel consumed by my differences
As rhinoceros with shopping carts
Whose ratty whispy tails
serve no purpose

They tell Sally that her dress
Will make her feel like more than less

It’s the right thing to say I guess

Its 11am. I am 46.
I just realized I am a displaced dolphin
But for now the smirk in the cheap suit
Will sell me sodium and heartburn
So I can sadly watch my children

As they assume my sameness

Somehow I feel ashamed
For disliking people’s games
Mostly though I
fear them for they’re liars

Spinning tales
For the spiders

 

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