I sketch out lifeless figures on notebook paper
As if they will receive some sort of praise or justification

I am unaware of the people around me
The suffering they all face

I sit
Heavily caught up in the waves of my own self absorbant prophecy

Why am I so aloof?
Who is there to stop me?

Myself?
I will remain untouched

By the pounding fist of progress
I will lay

A lifeless figure
Gently sketched out on notebook paper