Mired
In the plastic of everyday
The covers of my keys
Clinging to me
I'm passing right through it
I am a hot knife
I'm sinking in
Gooing through
Processed petroleum
Shined and shimmied
Lacquered and plated
It does appear richer that way
Much the opposite of I
Now covered in melted plastic
Yet worry for me not
As I'm a man made
Metal skinned man
Heated to just below melting
Cherry red
Incinerating wit
With a scorching gaze
I'm not the human torch
I wish it were so
Then I'd be a super hero
With heroic deeds to sow
As it is
I'm not sure what happened
I'd go back to bed
But I burned it up
Along with my desire for sleep
A living fire
Cored in metal
Bored to death
With lighting things up
I suppose I'll just hang out
Until I burn through the earth
Eventually I'll escape
This dreary gravity well
Then the possibilities are....
Well, limited actually
I can always collide with another planet
And do it all over again
Bummer
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