Self Expression Magazine

Kinds of Our Time

Posted on the 27 July 2011 by Kluckmeister @kluckitblog

Kinds of Our Time

Wandering souls on a moving landscape of expectation
juxtaposed against a sea of self entitlement and disbelief,
held accounted for by the unicorned armies that slave tirelessly in the name of an ideal of their own creation
stopping only to notice the flaws of others
building fruitless waves of anger and depression
self medicated and blatantly ignored through legal and illegal drugs of their choosing while pondering what is and what should have been
ceding nothing to no one and laying unadmittant in the face of defeat,
fabricated by the drones of a former world that compares ashes to dust
pushing its agendas through endless streams of belittlement and criticism,
complementing others for conformity while demeaning any crumb that falls from the loaf
no effort to understand or learn,
judging in order to escape the blinding reality that circles them
pleading the chance to be heard to a deafening crowd of uncompromise
impeding the progress of the motivated by feasting upon their dreams of disillusioned grandeur
regressing and progressing towards the inevitable future of unapproved success
becoming replaced by the herding of a monocultural revolution,
winning the war on a platform of unsustainability and degradation
of what once held some semblance of meaning
of which the souls and armies agreed upon.

Kinds of Our Time

When will it end,
this tedious jockeying for position
to be the forerunner in the race towards uniformity,
fueled by fires of refusal and disbelief,
questioned only by those of uncontrollable humanity
whose will and motivation are harvested for others’ grain,
replanted in distant lands with the hope a weed would overtake a garden
using routine to debilitate creativity,
impervious to the strains that would threaten its plan,
protected by illogical tradition and majority created fact that penetrates so deep
that we can feel it in our stomachs while watching the hope drain through our toes,
chasing the will that’s fading into an unreachable purgatory,
pointedly placed next to a path of apathy,
the secret weapon of relentless armies
intent on reforming someone’s circle into their square.


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