System

people call it the system, but really it's just a tangled up mess of needles and disinfectant a confident, well-oiled machine.

people call it the system, but really it's just a small world of caffiene-fuled professional producing a strangely individualized compassion.

people call it the system, but really it's just a calamity of evil, bourgeoisie reputation from the mouths of romantically sad boys and girls.

people call it the system, but really it's just a flawed salvation, a windowed room where small rays of sunshine leak in as you bare your soul.