<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=387789" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Guillotine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">the guillotine stands<br>alone in the square, <br>the pinnacle of pulse....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">that drains the heartbeats....<br>traffic heavy, horns honking, <br>hurrying, hurrying....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">trucks and buses puffing clouds<br>of death into the air....<br>neon signs keeping score.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">billboards selling the dream, <br>street preachers selling Jesus....<br>corner whores selling themselves....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in sterile rooms atop the skyscrapers, <br>far from the stink, far from<br>trash strewn in the alleyways</div><div style="margin:10px 0">like tiny lives forgotten, <br>gum stuck to the shoes.....<br>they gamble with futures, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">trading hungry mouths without faces; <br>never looking back.... vultures<br>in black suits and ties...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">winning, winning, or losing it all.<br>while the homeless and the addicts<br>walk the streets below....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">looking for something they cant remember....<br>light dancing on the razor-like blade.....<br>heads from bodies, hearts from souls......</div><div style="margin:10px 0">profit from the last heartbeat!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eric+Cockrell">Eric Cockrell</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=387789" data-title="Guillotine de Eric Cockrell" data-description="the guillotine stands alone in the square, the pinnacle of pulse.... that drains the heartbeats.... traffic heavy, horns honking, hurrying, hurrying.... trucks and buses puffing clouds of death into the air.... neon signs keeping score. billb..."></div> </div> </div>

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