Conveyor belt people

 

Conveyor belt people

fed into the pounder,

along this meat grinder life.

Ground into fine powder.

This world was once nice.

 

Packaged, disposable,

plastic

reshaped as you.

If you come out inferior,

imperfect,

any defects,

any discoloured artifacts,

it is off to the incinerator room.

Into the flames

you are dispatched.

to meet your doom.

 

Vacuum packed,

cellophane funeral shroud wrap.

Stamps mark

a price on your back.

Any cracks,

disjointed bits,

and you are placed

in the bottomless pits,

where the bin

for rejects sits.

 

Oil spills

and overbearing fumes,

smells of burnt plastic residue.

Uniform

in our matching costumes,

a marching band

all keeping time,

performing

to set the shelves alight.

Consumer paradise

of identikit uniformity.

It's not nice, this processed conformity,

this greedy place.

It used to be

green fields,

now just

hateful,

belching factories.

 

 

Thanks for reading

Endless Nightmares out now

300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelling

 https://amzn.to/42H2OGw

Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

Please follow the link for my books, videos and social media.

 

https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff 

 

Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle