suburban
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No sleep.
No water.
Dry mouth seems to be the onluy taste available.
No reach or want for what is close.
Only hardships are available.
Thee isn't much around in this deserted place we call home.
The table stays
the wood is grey
a light sull yellowed
tingy yellow brown
when on the bench
the hobo sleeps
the homo weeps
the political correctness steeps
and for weeks and weeks
Peers and youth clatter and clank
Minds nearly filled with blank
Always looking so fine and swank
A job and work a threat or a prank
Parents diving into their savings bank
