proletariat shuffle

the masses herd the strangers into the fringes like livestock;
into the slums and the gutters, the corners and low spots,
the ghettos and reservations, the back of the bus and the wall flower
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all in the struggle; something to do with an endless lust for power...
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to hear things in the tone of the filter
of what we want to hear,
to see the world in the shade of the color
we've been taught we want to see.
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we all see the world differently,
experiencing our own reality
through the lenses of the context
that everybody else thinks
the same exact way as "me"
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because it makes it more easy
to pretend that we're all free
in a society made to appease
the demands of the bourgeoisie