The flesh yet not so fresh
The heat is hot
In the past was not
As a melting pot
Why not?
Flesh
Can crack and rot
As it gets so hot
As we plot what not
A cure secure
And the skin, the flesh
Yet not so fresh
Decays with rays
Some cancer cells it tells
Yet a lab sells
Ointment that smells
It tells profits for them
The prophet does not do as well
Photo by Filter ForgePhoto by mighty.travelsPhoto by Montréal 1976