Flies on the wall
We’re being fried alive.
An oblivious world crawls on,
Thought I was on their side.
But I’m not.
Sick of their buzzing, fussing,
Over impetuous nothings.
Echoing in chambers,
Amounting to one thing…
It’s all empty. And shallow.
Musing over and muffling our demise.
While we butcher the silence, crunching on french fries.
While we butcher the meaning, dining on capitalist lies.
Elitist defeatists - well, they’ll take it anyway.
Despite the cavity, we abscess and slowly decay.
And with no delay, we have lost ourselves.
To a world devoid of meaning.
A superficial super what -
Well, it’s a super fatal shame.
An obsession with the plastic goods,
A papery wafer fame.
That’s what matters now.
We don’t want to know the contents,
Just give me title, kiss kiss blow bow.
What vortex am I trapped in?
A world I don’t belong.
A world where nothing matters,
No justice from the wrong.
An artist or a dreamer,
We don’t really need more of those either?
Living on a hopeful notion
While nothings getting cleaner…
The air is clogging up,
But we say live in the moment.
We won’t take too much action,
Because it turns out the hopeful are also hopeless.
Non movers, no shakers,
They fine-dine and chew on capers
While no super-man halts the papers
To tell the whole wide world that we are living a dystopian lie.
To tell the whole wide world that nothing matters, and hey, do you know why?
When you engage in a little more distraction,
While you pounce on your soundboard and doctor your caption,
No one’s listening, still.
And you didn’t listen either.
You didn’t listen everytime the winter warmed
and shuddered with it’s fever.
You didn’t bat an eyelash when you dropped your bottle in the ocean.
You didn’t feel compassion when you chewed on the fat.
The only utterance in confession was when your tummy was less flat.
So hat’s off, ladies, gentlemen, bury your ballooned heads in shame.
Take a bow, look at your handy-work, to see that this is your “now”.
You lost your own game.