2

I look into the dead eyes each day,
living zombies whose slavery is work.
Prince charles is a teacher,
when i call i never reach her,
too busy to fix the world,
too cold to turn up the heat for,
the freezing children I
love,
like a bullet, molten metal kills
this planet, but who's choice is it?
not the children,
the knowledge fix is broken,
i can feel the chill from hell
seeping through my bones.
I cannot wait much longer,
can't help,
too cold.