The American dream
The long march
Men Sitting in office parks
waiting
listening to the droning sound of a fan
Doing whatever work
Plops in there lap
With no question
As to why
Men driving nails
into concrete
Into wood
in the distance they can hear
the feint sound of an impact drill
they question themself silently
2 no, maybe 3 floors up?
Backhoes of dirt
Back and forth
Being ran by a detached man longing
For his son
and wife
The starving beggar
Passed by everyone on the street
Yet persists hoping to get enough
For his next meal
or his next drink
and im supposed to see this and join in?
and im expected to do this till i die? ha
If this is the american dream
Let me wake up

I didn't ask to be pulled into this world
Ripped out of the quiet and comfort of the womb
To be branded and twisted into what they want
Another mindless worker, another dollar
They want you to think life is about work
It's not, life is about LIVING
The sadness I see in a crowd is unbearable
Everyone longs to free themselves
Of these heavy shackles of society
So tell me, fellow beings
How do we break free?

One so positively caring and kind
Another so dark and irritable at mind
But why am I so angry towards every being
When the other part of me pushes to be please
I dedicated my time and studies to helping others
End ties with all around me including my dear lover
Found a thick rope abandoned in a box inside my shed
All the unhappiness started rushing into my head
That's all I remembered before I awoke in my bed
I wish I could care again, but I only see red.