It's odd to be a peon.
To sit in a grey Office.
Blue tucked in button up.
Red tie.
My opinion is irrelevant.
It's hard, it's rough.
It's not safe.
I am disposable.
All face to face is false.
My red tie doesn't help me.
It only stands me up.
I look left and find a man
both dressed and sitting down.
Whiskers ***** from his chin.
Teeth behind them smile.
A bit lip, a burnt tongue.
From the coffee on his desk.
He doesn't seem to have a soul left.
This cubicle has leeched it away.
I too have bit lip and burnt tongue.
From coffee on my desk.
I too am dressed and sitting down.
Am I doomed to a similar fate?
I wear the costume, blue shirt, grey slacks.
I look like I fit in.
But I add a flair to my uniform.
White and pink bunny ears.
Not too silly
Just enough.
My foot thumps the ground at excitement for my call.
My nose twitches at the smell of strangers as they pass.
I may not nibble carrots or hop around grass.
But I'm the call center bunny.
I'd much rather be different.
It feels wrong to fit in after so many years of being different.
I need to be looked at, laughed at, loved.
I can't be cookie cutter.
But I can cut cookies and hand them out.
Being ignored just felt so wrong.
If i do this right. They'll remember me.

I want to hate you
To crawl inside
My own stomach and die
While you fly
With your greedy suicide
Dissecting and erecting
Monuments to your opulence
Your eyes gleam with
Unattained wealth
You cannot help yourself
The media tells you what to want
Which block is the best block
Were you want to shop
How to stop the clock
And fear, fear, fear
And cheap beer, beer
Oh my deer
The headlight home in
On your definition of sin
But the only sin I see
Is that you believe
This is how life is supposed to be

I'd like to keep near,
the ones I hold dear,
And keep them all safe in my heart.
To show them compassion,
in good loving fashion.
Is where my intentions did start. H
Yet empathy takes,
as much as it gives,
and is harder to find in the dark.
But the love that can grow,
it breathes,
and it lives,
like fire
that came from a spark.
Its wondrous glow,
will wave to and fro,
and keep us all safe in its light.
The ember that burns,
so deep in ones soul,
allows us to see in the night.
A heat so intense,
it heightens your sense,
and in darkness,
you'll gain back your sight.
Embracing the flame,
will test if one's sane
and show you
your true sense of self.
I love all I can,
and stick to my plan,
to keep you all under my spell.
I believe what I feel,
is something that's real,
a sensation that grew from a sound.
With all my ability,
and deep positivity,
I'll spread my good vibes all around.
And In time I've found,
we're all tightly bound,
to all of our actions and thoughts.
And in living your life,
you'll discover less strife,
without the should haves,
and did nots.
So go out,
be free,
leave nothing to chance,
try out some new things,
partake in romance.
Don't give in,
to this dull,
dismal setting.
You may as well play,
against what they are betting.
They think we have dwindled,
expended our souls.
That our minds live a dream,
that our brain never knows.
They've tricked us it seems,
and it's starting to show.
So grab your life back,
don't ever let go...

What moral magistrate
Monster of mediocrity
Makes a model citizen of me
Even if I don’t want to be

All upright and uptight
Humorless jackboot
Goose stepping toadstool
The fascist conservative fool
Who pedals misinformation
Counting on fear and stupidity
To turn strangers into tools

Yep that one eyed sheep
In the blind herd
Who wants to tell me
What I should or shouldn’t do

Why bother
With that proctor
Of indignity
Who counsels
The talented
To remain dormant
In their humility

Doctor of docility
Prescribing conformity
Storming the cities
Bleeding us of our individuality
To make more metal cogs
For the culture machine

It was late into that viscious seasonal transition
with sticky heat grating at the loose barricades
the confused masses put up around
patterns of docile thought.

I remember entire cities
churning out their leaders as children
and dressing our most vulnerable
up for combat.

I remember each first moment
when another person knew
how painful it was
to just have it all happen.

The sweet sting of a tireless wind
at least taught us what momentum existed,
but never how to resist the pull
and claim it as our own.

Whatever took us kept us
up until the very end,
and we expected to wake up
panting, embracing a new land.

And then the storm stopped
and the eyelids pried open
against the settling dust
that encapulated the chaos.

Nothing was harmed and no one was moved
and the waters reclaimed a normal flow
but they all just sat with nowhere to go
in shock that their, "right here" hadn't changed.

Not right here
nor the now
nor the us
nor any "them".

We sweet human creatures
are built to seek shelter
to make it grow
into tragic stagnance.

Somewhere along the journey
Through the forest dark and deep
We gave away our faces
And our souls were lulled to sleep,
Now we are reflections
Of everything we see,
Replacing who we are
With who we're trying to be.