The Crime

Feeling blue was supposed to be just an emotion,

from laughter to fading smiles, in a reverse gear goes the promotion.

Working one moment, losing hope in the next,

they ask me to talk to them but I can ever explain it on call, in person or on text.

In a recurring cycle, the weather has plummeted from sunshine to storms,

I stand alone naked, facing the faceless, while they wear the same uniforms.

Eyes filled with blood and veins filled with tears,

the pace is decreasing, from six to one, aggressively shifting gears.

My battery is running out, and so does my time,

every second alive makes me the criminal and living, the crime.

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