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Pip Writes Stuff

Pip Writes Stuff is where Pip Turner used to post his ramblings. This is rarely posted on anymore, but feel free to have a browse, enjoy some artgame reviews, mediocre poetry and relive the good times.

Awake

--

You wake up and work

But little do you know you’re running to them

Running to where the fears lurk

Where the ghouls consistently condemn

But to you, this is a refuge

To you, this is a home

A home full of subterfuge

A home where you are disowned

Is this natural, is this right?

For your safe haven to be non-existent

Leaving you, not existing.

wake up working

Yet can never scratch the idea

That there must be something missing

Something deeper than this layer

Simply existing for others to exist

So that others can live for others to

Live instead of them, the meaning missed.

We can’t just be here to do

Endless labour for the one percent

To thrive within a cyst

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That needs eradicating

wake up, exhausted

Where are ?

Seem to have backslid

Into a overcooked stew

Of hatred, fear and pain

An infinite tunnel of darkness

Where your hard work is in vain

And your life is the pus

Of this ageless blight on the human race

Crafted to serve the top few, leaving us crying, hiding, sleeping, ignoring, sobbing, disheartened by the rest of humanity.

You wake up.

You don’t have to be a part

Of this relentless build up

Which tears us apart

Where everything is for something

And nothing exists for you

Where life is a constant aching

To get to the front of the queue

But it doesn’t have to be like this

We don’t have to conform.

Wake. Up.

--

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Pip Writes Stuff
Pip Writes Stuff

Published in Pip Writes Stuff

Pip Writes Stuff is where Pip Turner used to post his ramblings. This is rarely posted on anymore, but feel free to have a browse, enjoy some artgame reviews, mediocre poetry and relive the good times.