On broken mirrors to reflect on.

They’ll break you down

And make you nothing

A perfect void unfilled

Needing to be exploited

A perfect void to fill–

He’s ringing the bell

So come on down,

And down and down and down,

Take one of these, and one of those

To fill and fill and fill, as down and down

And down we go, to get what we need

Below– where the bell ringer waits

To take and take and take and take

Taking payment to make us fake, fake, fake

Surrounded by stuff and wearing masks

Hidden, broken down and hollow pits

Empty still and lying to ourselves

Never willing to admit we’re no one

Because we’re not okay with it

So we ring our bells and follow them

Down to our own hell, to consume

It all and sustain the unsustainable

Insatiable appetites for bells, that ring

And ring, and ring and ring, for more

And more meaningless definitions like:

Shackles to language, and missing rhymes

Lost on filling empty lives with empty lies

Crammed, into dusty cabinets, shaken off

Only when somebody else needs them

So they might not believe what you know is true

Every time you look in the mirror

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