Empty Occupation

Is this the way the consumer becomes the consumed
Material appetites entreat us to make our bed
Restless in our creature comforts to sate the fears that linger in our head

Peirced with the sorrows of a first world cause displacing the will to dream
As we live for a tomorrow never promised and wander in disregard for things unseen

Factory processes engineer us as cogs in this proverbial machine
Rotate like clock work in the mundane rhythm as we drown in the motion of a dead routine

I build walls with material paraphernalia to enable the habits of the buyer
Dealing knock of versions of a custom paradise as I wear the corporate brand
Money trades to transaction of carnal hopes from hand to broken hand

Cardboard constructs of concealed substance in the market of anti social currency
The economy stimulated by souls trafficked through

As I embody this love hate money enslavement showcasing my hypocrisy
Am I just a camel in a staring contest with the eye of the needle trying to make my way to You?

From boxes to boxed in, there's something more beneath the layers of the outermost fragility
Substance in the way that everything looks the same yet yearning to be distinguished by ability

Trying to maintain the rights of material freedom at the heart of this facility
What is this occupation but the conformed image of my stifled virility...
Written by cloventongue89 (Nathaniel Peter)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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