It's Always Darkest in Suburbia

Its always darkest in suburbia.

Metal sentries stare through

clear lenses, guarding postage

stamp cookie cutter cracker boxes.

False reality

blares and blinks

through curtained eyes,

isolating, distracting

solidifying the addiction.

Deserted cul de sac

ghost towns are brightened

by sun beating down

on empty shells

situated on plush green

carpet shapes.

Without meaningful interaction,

inhabitants turn inward embracing

the illusion of security.

It’s always darkest in suburbia.

Masses of silent desperation

are always on, always lit,

hidden behind perfect facades.