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Sara Kellie Mar 15
Wear your muzzle
and do not protest!
Attendance with others
will end in arrest.
So, keep your mouth shut
and toe our line,
Failure to do so will end
in a fine.

Your freedom is gone
for you're just a pawn.
In this game we play,
human rights are withdrawn.

Predictively programmed
your mind now is ours.
You entered a ballot,
relinquished your powers.

When all said and done
this is your own fault.
Industrial complex,
I dare you revolt.

Kaydee.
Welcome to your dystopian future.
A Simillacrum Jun 2018
I
Am human
I
was
born,

I,
For reasons
I
Don't
Know,

I
Am conscious
I

Want what is mine.

The only planet I might
ever touch with my toes
in my lifetime, the only planet
that our children may
ever, is in constant flux
as humankind fights on high
between the minds that
can't decide on the price
of life in this land of freedom,
minds on high that can't
decide if a government
should protect its citizens' best
interests or preach
individualism until the best
is a corporate Wild West.
Until when? The time
Has come.

It is.
You can see it.
Look what you've built.
Gaze upon social implosion and cry.

I
Am nothing
With
Out
This
Blessing

I
Am a part
Of
the
We
as the

Us.

You want to see God?
Feel your face with your hands.
Look at yourself in the mirror.
Assess what you've become.

At some point in time,
The value of commodity
Became The value of a human life
At some point in time,
The value went intangible
Became the money We need, when

Our leaders all fritter Fiat funds
For access to guns and bombs.

(Bigger and Better, Baby)

(❤)
Who am I?

(Who am I?)

Who am I,

but a sound of tomorrow?
Little children with screaming ribs
Bulging eyes and feeble limbs
Stomachs filled with empty meals
Spirits broken in penury

Growing up unevenly
Economically and socially
Basic needs are luxuries
With less than one dollar coming in

Choices robbed,  Options deprived
The pendulum swings
Absolute and Relative
Survival chance Is dreary bleak

Cycle so vicious,  Our hatred grows
Like Perseus,  Our own heroes
We must now become
Slaying the beast at every turn

For like Medusa ,
Poverty is a dreadful Monster
With vices for hair
But not immortal

©Belema .S. Ekine

— The End —