Beg For Mercy!
A wage slave is auctioned
Once every hour.
All the high bidders
Position their pinky rings.
To create an eclipse
That exists like a blindfold.
Were to wipe away
Would label them
The pupils must remain covered
To explain the importance
Were to beg
And ejaculate their pupils.
It would leave a hole
Darker then a grave.
In a blind sprint
They would trip
Over their gravestone.
In the dirt.
And whispering rumors:
“Did you hear?
They didn’t appreciate
What they had.”
A.j. Binash's Other Poems
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