The boxes are ticked by those men who’ve been picked, from the keenest
Of yes men there, for checks done each day so the bosses can say, that
Their workforce takes extra care.
But the bosses were tricked by some men that they picked for a job that
All liars can do composing old fiction that begs a
Conviction for writing what still isn’t true.
But on they run with boxes ticked, while welding’s cracked and
Something’s dripped, inside the cell where Foremen looked: for hours on
End in ‘Logs and books recording all the names of crooks who would’nt
See and didn’t look, behind those windows two foot feet, where fell a
Steady drip of ticks.
Soon crystals formed as crystals do, from tiny holes where pressure grew,
A mist of droplets spewing out, a…
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