In a box 

Man, woman 

Doesn’t matter 

I’m the man in the box 

Buried in my shit 

Won’t you 

Come and save me 

To deny is to negate which leads nowhere 

I’m the dog

Who gets beat 

Won’t you come and save me 

The tobacco leaves scatter for the fortune tellers, soothsayer’s and secret seers

-and my eyes 

They have seen enough.
You ask me to make sense of this?

And ask 

How can we deny our maker?

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