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THE FAST LANE Like mechanized robots we move from goal to goal never mind whom we trample however high the toll.
Where friendships die at the alter of meetings secure in our bank balance no time for honest greetings.
Do we hear our loved ones we're on the phone too much an irritable glance is all to answer their caring touch.
Forever on the run who has time to breathe ever stopped to think where this road will lead?
In plush coffins and fancy cars we waste away bit by bit we're dead already and we don't even know it... ~Bittersweet~
The Author has
copyright © of the poems
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