Filth ruins the streets as they are unable to walk beyond the boundary and limits cast in the bitumen and tar. Set upon their own ways, the distraction is nothing short of disdain and disgust. Ample time to conjure plans away from the circling motion from their glue sniffing and crack gumming ways.
The breakdown of society is right outside the door and it is well into a fetid stench.
Fielding short on social skills, the highlight of their day is running rings over and around the street signs. Caution to the wind, the very notion brings down the standing of the entire area, sadder and far poorer for keeping the refuse rolling in houses from the government.
Memories and batteries, short on supply, unable to lay down the law with conviction. Seconds too late.
Saturday, 10 February 2007 - 18:12
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