The Rose Race

It smells as sweet as heat death

She feels a thorn in her side

He carries a nuclear anvil

They shout at the television set

We eat from the brain outward

I protest life without purpose

She smells as of tomorrow's nectar

He feels a pinprick anger sky

They carry a thousand woes

We shout when myths die

You eat disaster news and trite grin-snippets

I protest war unequivocally

He smells as a hunger flies

They feel the weight of concrete

We carry too many burdens

You shout Cosmo psuedo-psycho sex test

I eat the rose race

She protests protest without planning

We smell the rose race die

We feel car tread of paved street

You carry all hate and hurting

She shouts trees trees war war trees

We eat delicious but no taste

They protest death as an afterthought

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