wearing blue uniforms in different patterns,
see-through embroidered shirts,
suits and ties

the lead force knows what we need
and what should be done;
the revolutionists and communists
or perhaps citizens beware

these elevated-angels can no longer be reached,
we’re down in the sewers, in the gutters

their leader is faceless, faceless faces
like shadows you can never win against
nor at least inflict harm to

they are everywhere monitoring us
in our private moments, the shadows
cast upon the light of our television sets
in our living room with its lights turned off,
the paranoia in the streets where cctvs
serves as a notion that someone is watching
us

observing our delayed bills, monthly salaries
and taxes along with our debts and its interests.
the short-sweet remedy is its scent from
the entertainment shows that has
strong amplified hypnotizing voice from
artists forcing us to accept all their opinions
are lawful and just

the guardians of the traffic roads
respawned by the motherlings and the all
time fathers of the unknown;
the producers of angry motorists and
robbers.
the bosses
the managers
the CEOs
the licensed practitioners

they all gain a part of the gift of their path
and no alternative force can stop them.
their vital strength also serves as
their fatal weakness
and they are glad that the cycle
is almost stable.

they all belong to a one big underground
family tree, bound to make humanity
suffer, taken away from the
essence and purpose of living

and

i’m here on a refuge, smoking every
inches of cigarettes i could light.
writing the words down like a ***
with a signage that says “the end is nigh”
and it would take a couple of decades
for it to take effect on them to
think that they should’ve listened

not
to
me

but
to

the truth.