PESSIMISM 6  

Cold city. When I stroll your naked heart I see
the children crawling to an empty box to sleep.

They drink the morning dew with their dry lips
While the city plans a day filled with con games.

Cold city, I am planning your destruction, I am planning
To cut out the arrogant brain that you penetrate me with, 
Leaving a gaping place for the chilled wind.

I dream of your ruin and will dance when I hear far away,
That you have suffered as I have suffered.

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