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Obfuscater.net: Death and Taxes (obfuscater)


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Death and Taxes

It's homeward bound at six fifteen,
Longing for where your heart is.
You lay your head upon your bed
And dream of death and taxes.

It's instant coffee, long-life bread,
A tabloid and an iron,
No time to chew or facts review
Before swallowing opinions.

It's inching forwards, merging lanes,
Feeling protagonistic:
And every day they're in your way,
Obdurate and sadistic.

And then it's work, the ebb and flow
Of the walk to hell and back,
Where compromise cannot disguise
The passion that you lack.

But homeward bound at six fifteen,
You long for where your heart is.
You lay your head upon your bed
And dream of death and taxes.


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