Life through a few Loaves of Bread

For a few loaves of bread and a few grains of grub
In-between the joys of pleasure and the sorrows of pain
I find my life I call life, I define this as my life

Enslaved to my desires
Engulfed by the objects of my desire

I make my desire my attire
And I roam the streets of slavery in the savory of my sorrows

Unable to create a life on my own
I recreate and procreate on the knife of pleasure and pain

Lost in the images of imagination, I build walls of hallucination
And I deck my walls with accusations of the other

Comfort as my fuel
Comfort of Security as my duel
I burn in the flames of my own habit

Unable to open up to the unknown
I stone the unknown for the known, to the known

I trade freedom for security to find freedom through security
For I know of no freedom without security and purity

I wonder if I am dreaming, if I am asleep
Only to realize that the dreamer and that is being dreamed are me, one and the same
I wonder of that which I wake up to, I wonder if that is another dream within my dream of the dream

Unknown of my own known, I weave a web of a prison, a prism
Where I am the thief and my own grief

Tired of the games and afraid of the memes and the names of the memes
Walloped by my own imagination, I no longer can gallop through my memory of life
For my life is through and for a few grains of grub and few loafs of bread

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