Rolling Over

All our grandmothers,
were turning themselves over in their graves
Drinking coffee or sipping lemonade
you sulk around
like lint in a dryer catcher
we wasted our lives
looking at cell phones and magazines
melting our faces off like ice cream
say that we’re bored
praying please Lord 
cajoling like an infomercials 
everyone wants a nickle and dime
while breathing on borrowed time
We dressed as mannequins
don’t be surprised with the harlequins
we live in cardboard houses
driving cardboard cars
until the torrential rains came
and we’re all dissolving into the drains
can’t wait to grow old
to shirk responsibilities
lying on a trust fund of gold
we weren’t completely sold
or satisfied

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