Christmas in the desert of grief,
Fruitless, baron but thankfully brief.
Seems like I was inserted within quotations marks
In a story full of exclamations and artificial parks.
Metallic buildings hiding badly constructed personalities
Price tags and brand labels dressing up naked and scarred realities.
I’ve been told lies by prettier places,
with towers longer than a prisoner’s last night on death row.
I’ve seen many prettier faces,
But none like yours, with your perpetually electric glow.
You there, you’re a dirty car
Making your way to that glittery bar
With those wheels, you won’t ever need
Catastrophes, what attracted you here will be the reason for your discontent
The place you thought you’d love, you will come to resent.
You’ll get cheated on like some high school test,
To keep you ignorant, you’ll be worked without any prospect of rest.
But the weather is good and you’ll continue to smile,
You’ll go to the beach and sip your designer coffee for a while.
Enjoy your Christmas in this desert of grief,
You’ll be gone soon.