H.J. Shreeve (26/5/1987 / Hobart, Tasmania)
Caged... Like A Three Legged Pig.
Do not seek refuge in the places that I do,
Such places would do you no good.
This is all around me, It follows me there.
I am told it is not necessary to fear one's own kind,
Tell me, Do you?
Only animals, Broken in spirit,
Soil the place they eat and sleep,
I walk through your steel jungle,
I can not stand the stench of your filth,
The same filth that tars my lung, stains my teeth.
Do you feel free?
Do you feel like a once proud beast,
One tied, Drugged and placed in captivity.
You sleep in your own excrement.
I walk aimlessly, unburdened by map,
I walk amongst all this I can not escape.
I capture it on film,
Each morning, trying to seek beauty in this cage,
Still, It keeps me awake,
The spoken words, The sound of machines, The hum of neon - Like a thousand flies swarming around all this decay.
For me, No escape.
Do not seek refuge in the places I do, Such places would do you no good.
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