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~an introduction for ignorant newborns~
we live in a society built on lies...
when the hell will we get up and open our eyes?
sitting in the back seat watching time go by...
powerless to the person at the wheel...
when we unplug our monitors,
we unplug our minds.
take your pills,
now go back to sleep...
put on your headphones,
mindless to this rotting world
that perpetually dies.
turn the volume up,
and every time the volume increases,
your ignorance follows suit.
blind yourself in the limelight of cameras,
oh, beloved celebrity.
cover your feelings with makeup, and cleanse yourself of anxiety with your...
medicine.
talk about how “OCD” you are,
as you drive past the mental ward.
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~interlude~
mr. president stands before a thousand cameras—
lights flashing,
questions asking.
what will he say?
what will he decide?
or,
will he lie?
he turns his head to one camera.
he smiles and says it’ll be alright.
he turns his head to another.
he frowns and talks about how there should be no more ******.
he looks to a camera in front of him and says,
“we are a free people...”
and i wonder
which broadcast tells the truth?
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~ode to the top 1%~
on the top floor,
watch through the eye of god,
as the filthy ants scramble below you.
look through your glass window,
as the man on the other side cleans it.
frown upon him as if he is an insect,
instead of a man.
shuffle your papers,
as you shuffle the choices of who lives and who dies.
posh parties,
and lively celebrations—
as well as child deaths,
and gun violence.
the TV isn’t working—
maybe you can see the agony on their faces through the static.
scoff and walk away—
thirty more people died at the expense of the NRA today.
turn off the light
that those children never had.
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~an untimely end to this never ending struggle (conclusion)~
how will it all end for humanity?
will it end by war
or by famine
or by mass-******?
or will it end depending on the mind?
tell yourself it’s fine
with ***** and alcohol.
or tell yourself it’s not because of lack thereof.
but those aren’t the only paths.
you decide your end.
will you get up and make a change before you die?
or will you sit down and close your eyes?
will you help the woman who’s fallen,
or will you act like it didn’t happen?
so many paths one can take.
let us all try our hand
at this sick,
sick
game.
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a special thanks to:
hatred,
hope,
dread,
life,
death,
change,
good,
bad,
oh,
and society for being such a pain in the ***.