Always been told
That we are not machines
Yet, our world is built like this:
Routine, repair
Relinquish, revere
All fact no speculation
We must continue
But really, do we?
Here is the summation:
Becoming victims of liquidation
Just by going on vacation
Choosing vocations
Just to chase stagnation
Chasing relations to find salvation
Just to receive probation and isolation
Mutations of liberation
Lasting for long durations
We are machines, observe our foundation
Full of mutation, renovation
Life is a sacred thing
Yet, look at the pain we bring

Lone in peace, but you
Surrounded by the sorrow
Of strange personas

Beautiful technology
Dividing our diverse psychology
Are we human if we can't do anything without it?
But how could it stop?
Corporations feel elation
Once the profit lines exceed expectation
No aspiration, only calculation
Cashing in on our passion
Refashioned to distant compassion

Want vs. have
I want to do this
So I go to chose it
But when I have to do this
It makes me lose it
Freedom never freed him
Why even pretend?
Our life ends once we fend
Individuality turned to superficiality
Fighting for life, common mentality
Why is it easier to die under lax legality?
Wanting to have a choice
No matter the side
Choice is never supplied

If I disappeared, would life be the same?
Would I have fame?
Would I be maimed?
Would people be ashamed
Of the signs they chose to not see?
Lighting my heart aflame
All I see are red flames
Filled with anger
From being lame
Life is a game
One that I want someone else to claim

Depreciation
Inevitability
Appreciation

Grounding and bounding
Fear of being one thing brings
Inadequacy