Perspective

Alone in a shell Is there any time to weep? No time at all, as we go through the motions of the well oiled machine While dreaming of landscapes so pristine That they contrast the here and now we share A poisonous environment Tick tick ticking times of predictability You cannot afford to rest To weep To laugh To feel To think of how absurd you live Lost in a machine Your properties are not up to spec You want to dream but you just spend your dreams on somebody else's ambitions Money is a drug we relentlessly chase Just to get a bit of a security high. But the dreams are spent in this endeavour. Songs are not written, paintings are forgotten, Piles of meaningless spreadsheets pollute our vision every day Screens scorching our retinas We sell our bodies and our souls for crumbs Some sustenance here, some dependencies there, The cross of duty is heavy to bear. What will be left when we grow frail? Some specs of memories we could afford Smiles on our own time. The time we didn't sell away.