Social Fires

The push of the swift winds of time

The boiling waters of expectations

Burn your soul to dust.

Hands held out to ****** your last earned dime.

The self appointed “Monks” of “Defined Existence”

Are not the Calm or the enlightened.

They are the “Controllers of Conformity.”

Individuality is non-existent in their eyes.

They push you towards the edge until you break.

Fires flare from your eyes.

You push back

Smoke and flames turned once blue into red skies.

They are on a time schedule.

Even when you don’t need to punch in.

Life is not work.

These “lost souls” fail to differentiate

“Chop, Chop”

An artist wishing to savor his moments

It is rushed to adhere to their educational lectures.

The resentment of becoming “a dog on a leash”

Heating up

Your Once calm and cool oceans

Simmer your waters to a blasting boil.


As you fight for your right to a brighter future

Fighting for your right of Free Ways of Motion


You wage war against those “puppet masters”

Who try and **** out the “worms”

Inspecting everyone under their microscope

Only to have their corporate thinking crumble

In their twisted means in their lives as which they cope


Burning down their forests of contempt

of those unlike a carbon copy of themselves

They are now merely blackened  and smoldering ashes of the old

As you plant seeds of a greener jungle

For your courage to stand up to those oppressors that warm up the air once colder

You are now the teacher

These “lost puppet masters” are the newer students

A reverse role

Which is now, ohh, so prudent.