Creatures of imitation
I call you now
We may be human
But we reject and disallow
Look at the trees, see the air in the leaves
Push and pull as one fulfills needs
So complex
Yet we forget the simple rules
Harmony
Ruined by the lead
Superiority
Born by the urge to creep
Power, not real
All it does
Brings us the zeal for the end

As numbers grow
Meaning becomes a focus
For every ten that are born
Twenty are met with scorn
When do concepts
Not apply to humans?
Is quantity not over quality?
To reach demands
Without reprimand
How can we matter
When numbers outweigh us
Have we, gone by
The time, to thrive?
When only 1% of the world matters
What about the 99%?

Staring
Hollow
Controlled by a box
Of science
To slay, the silence
For today is a day
Nothing else or more
Tomorrow brings chance
That no one will take
How can we live
Under false pretense
Dispensed intensity
Shattered bones
Not loud enough to tell
The secrets of a generation
How can we live?

On the road
I run forward
Shatter the glass pane
Ignore the pain
Yet all I do
Brings dents to the iron
Never, did I have the strength
But as my head will rise
I'll be born anew
As I turn around
So many crying on the ground
How can I guide them
With a voice that never bloomed?
When will the pain end?
What more can I do?

Pins, needles
Suppressed evil
Butterflies lie
Despite their pride
Pointing fingers at sides
To hide what's inside
Nerves, the motive
Paranoia, the action
Blind cannot react
To such a transaction
Pure distraction
As the branch falls
So too does its spread
But if you cut off the head
Is it truly dead?

All these rights
Just to justify life
How are so many made
Yet few ever live
Quality over quantity extends to our kids
The pursuit of justice ends with just us
For in a world of progress
We forget where we come from

I look into my own eyes
Question: Who am I?
Am I the sum of my space?
The finances I make?
Am I only a man in relation to others?
Can I stand on my own with no other?
How do I live with a life I smother?
So many choices, so many headaches
All these decisions for no one else to take
Good, bad, all just words
But, so is everything
So, then, what separates me, what do I bring?
Cannot be alive, gotta produce something
Because the proof is in the goods
Truly, it stings