I’d like to jot a historic note
One of truths and one where facts remote
Find the facts; here’s your game
One is true and the other defames

I’m an elephant at a zoo
On display, with something to prove
Fake and force fed to stay alive
Forced and caged I’d rather die
I’m an elephant at a zoo
With a trunk full of water
Blowing straight crap out my mouth,
Not fit to be a father
Not actually that unique
And more of a bother
Not ready for life I’d like to be out
But used to being sheltered
Owned by someone but feel headstrong
I’m a big strong mammal with weak wavelengths
Brains a peanut and heads down ashamed
If life’s a zoo then I’m on the main stage

I’m a free gazelle
Headlights a wonder
Ankles are weak from birth after mother
spotted and brown my consciousness is splattered
I’m free to be me yet shot at the same
There’s perks to free range
But rents like open season
Going to be broke by august
Hit my heart without a fine given or any reason
I don’t know what those lights are and why do they move quickly?
Why am I on a hood? Where am I going?
What is my purpose what’s this mantle they speak of?
My heads now on a rack and my eyeballs are marble
I can’t see my pain or feel my legs
But atleast I chose this route and tried to cross that street
Instead of being spoon fed;  lesson learned I suppose
Life’s like a cage I’d rather be out then in a box decomposed

It's easy to get angry
and see the worst in
everyone & everything
isn't it?

No one is above the
bottom mounted
power supply
if one is

One likely bleeds money profusely

At the bottom pointing
fingers at the
portions of pie
passed around

Get your pitchfork
Get your rock
Get your virulence
Put your words to work
Put the words to terms
Put the terms to head

Blow the brains

Serve justice upon the lame
Serve justice upon the poor
Serve justice upon the tray
Of silver fear

With the money
Make guns
With the gun the
Money, make or break
With the money
Buy guns
With the gun ****
With your gun away

All these people fighting over
Fences and personal defenses
Look more and more like ants
On this elevator up

As the poverty line rises
The middle meets the bottom
Resources are scarce as it is
Now add to that the opulence
Wanting younger sibling of
The richest parts of a country
And you have two distinct groups
That don't understand how
The U.S. government works
That don't understand mass
Media conglomeration
That don't understand those
Two groups fight and also
Fight the churches for the
Remnants of our human soul

Earth is the perfect farm
Introduce a material form of power
Then put your bids on the board
Watch as the poor and the poor
****** each other for the right
To dive on coins

Left.
Right.
Up.

Down is where we're at.

What happens when an open space, once a canvas to your thoughts,
turn into a dingy cabin, where you are chained to a chair with no lumbar support
and a program is chipped into your brain to decode client briefs, one after the other,
however idiotic they might be,
only to churn out results that will please a super boss,
who has done the same, for n number of years more than you,
so that the numbers that are not on your side, look irrelevant, coz
the money that you are making for the company is very relevant, to them, their family
and the rest of mankind, but you?
You quit.
No, wait
You’ve got EMI’s to pay.