Faking Enjoyment Poem by Theorem The Truth Serum

Two bridges meet
like the yearning arms
of two eager lovers.
They come together
on a road that goes
through an ample breast.
They are gray like the fog
that has chosen to roll in
with an open mouth
as it begins to ingest.
All the while, thousands of ants
are crawling on this road.
Their antennas look more
like headlights searching for safety.
These ants are wishing that
the sun would point at them
like a magnified glass directed
by a child with the intent to burn.
The fog is more like the Berlin Wall.
It keeps out the light to keep them
trapped in this extended darkness.
These big tall buildings peak through
looking spider-like with a thousand
windows spread out for eyes.
For these were the spiders that
ultimately had them stuck in their
webs for the duration of the work day.
But unlike a real web, these ants were
able to escape after their time was up.
With their expiration they did not find death,
they felt as if death dangled in front of their
face like an inescapable bad romance
comedy that was forced on them by the
shackle of the arm that was monitored by
smiling lips with a pair of beautiful brown eyes.
All you can do is smile back at all
the rest of the other smiling slaves.
The only difference between you and them is,
you know that you are faking enjoyment.