A Prison of Our Own Design

Take us to our cages..
That's not meditation, that's a vegetative state,
From heavily medicated to some regulated waste,
And we could have speculated..
We have burning questions, but these answers won't hold water,
And this cancer knows no author, yet it’s spreading through in masses..
Tell them we can't keep candor if we pander to these fascists,
And we can't keep fleeting banter when we’re standing in the ashes..
What was there to joke about..?
Hopelessness: a common man with contraband to go around,
Focused on the propaganda, fodder that we’re choking down,
Notice how we’re not to stand..?
For anything, and everyone’s okay with it,
‘Cause everything’s aplenty and so heady on the face of it..
Many offered change, but complacency and aimlessness,
Have taken to our vacancy, and rages through our tastelessness..
It put us in our place..
That's not meditation, that's a vegetative state,
From heavily medicated to some regulated waste,
And we could have speculated..

Copyright © 2013 Travis J Gibbs, The Ant1-Her0 Project