We Are

 

We are the weak on zombie walk

Programmed well to be just fine

The mumbled speak

Of an en masse tweak

Carrying someone else’s sign

 

We are the clouds before the sun

Painting pictures we can’t see

Chanting the hymns

That praise our whims

In non-distinct disharmony

 

We are the kempt consumer line

Dots connected in charted course

And we just can’t wait

For our destined fate

Told by a dark three-legged horse

 

We are the ‘I don’t give a damn’

Damning others all day long

The pretentious brood

Of the moral multitude

Blah blah white sheep sing along

 

We are the proud pretenders

Displaying facade instead of face

All loose and fast

In a sprint to last

Where the finish line’s erased

 

We are the misled minions

Stealing all our wasted breaths

The carry ons

Of the here and gones

Whistling, waiting for our deaths

 

 

                   s. paul (May 2021)