Bollweevils John Doe
without a name yet treated with respect. ritualistically sacrificed away, and so it goes. the frozen gaze, the flashing scalpel blade. as his skin comes peeling easily away. the room gets cold. but then i wonder, did he think about the future. can you tell me so? i just don't know. and now he's laying still in a room full of people all alone. a body bag is his new home. the smell of formalin is strong, it's strong. a hollow shell caught in a silent scream. trying to communicate that he was actually somebody. realize that one day we all die and the john doe on the table could have easily been me. but then i wonder, did he think about the future. can you tell me so? i just don't know. and now he's laying still in a room full of people all alone. a body bag is his new home. the smell of formalin is strong, it's strong
