THe Pits 

 the shit runs deep, beneath the surface of the earth.  Deep rivers of brown and black, the blood of our sad race.
 Cut the vain, let it spatter across the clean white walls, family and friends.  The stench is reminiscent of our
 origin and our fate.  Overwhelmed, we go limp, fall down dead...dead to me.

 and the shit keeps                                         flowing, until its all gone, the memory all 
 gone.  Leaves only 					     emptiness, an abyss, a hole in the head.
 the earth stops, dead in                                    its tracks, and we all fly away.

 there I am at the end of                                     the day, no one else around.  Hole in my
 head just big enough to                                      crawl into.  Curl up in a ball and wait for 
 nothing.