Looking into you're eyes
Is like squinting into the sun
As I rip out the pages
To my most truthful memoir
So I never really existed at all
And now I sit
Replacing the pages
With memories
Yet to come
And never to come
Until we are all left
Confused and belittled
Surrounded by the philistine artists
Who have become
Chauvinists to real talent
Tightening nooses
Around our feeble throats
So we don't leave as they planned
Blinded
We still manage to see
More than the others do
Not as a result of our superior vision
As a result of their ignorance
This rogue world
Has commenced
It's crumbling
Like the memoir I fabricated
Instead now burning to become ashes
To be lost
To one day be found
But never recognized
For how could one ever
Recognize ashes
To be a commemoration
Of the forgotten truths
We think about using
The last bit of intelligence
They haven't taken from us
Along with our passionate indignation
At a futile attempt
To kick out the chairs
Still supporting us
From underneath
For then the war would be over
But not won
And we see
A cease fire is not in question
But the sky is still blue
So ask yourself this
What is it we are fighting for?
Sanity?
Because that is still
In our possession
But that is what they want us to believe
So look at that blue sky
As your eyes burn from the sun
And remember
How very complex
Your existence has become
I wonder
If we can ever call this
An existence anymore.
accidentally inspired by 1984 by George Orwell