The gears grind and fall into place
The faces in the human race
Faces no-one can recognise
Cant read the message in your eyes
Morse code tapping out an SOS
But most people couldn't care less
Night fog like molasses
Sun's surface burning gases
Card sharp, twister, grifter, con
Nothing left to rely upon
Shiny metal turned to rust
Not one soul that you could trust
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem