A place for storing human beings in stasis like a giant refrigerator
Without compassion like the moon without the sun or space without stars
It can be a place of growth when we realize how faulty we are how much damage we’ve done the pain causes change
But then what? We’re still here like forgotten apples in your winter grave
It’s a stepping stone for politicians But where do these bloody stone stairs lead?
A place to forget and be forgotten like a rug under which to sweep your dirt
It’s a great hungry beast which devours all ties and plans and slowly eats away at memory
There is one light that burns brighter every day It’s the place where I learned to write poetry