Code Of Conduct Poem by Scarlett Charlotte

In the homes of happy valley, somewhere ‘neath the vast blue tent,
Live the half-digested people; the code of conduct and the government.

Always smiling, shining, glossy; No one cares to see the chains
Wrapped around rebellious ankles, or the shadows in the lanes.

If you ask them, they will tell you; of the joy of rules and rights
Shifting eyes, tell of the spirits; that can’t succumb without a fight.

All their lives abound in pleasure, in the town of closet fear
Because if they choose to lisp a secret, have no doubt they disappear.

On the Sundays, like sound clockwork, tolls the pristine iron bells
And when the sacred bread is broken, they smile into their perfect hells.

All the children, perfect angels, touch no dirt, or run in rain,
But when the lights of curfew darken; they burn themselves to feel true pain.

Living here in happy valley, where no wrong is seen or spoken
We’re all smiling, perfect plastic; while inside we’re dead and broken.