• i reminisce of moments long past, of times long gone,
    from the seat of my park bench, watching the birds fly by
    a mountain of memories, a tower or cigarette butts from here to heaven's gate

    they kept me at ease, a simple contentment to keep me satiated, keep my feet on the ground
    keep me working towards the next goal,
    tired and defeated,
    an inefficient machine in an zero-tolerance world

    i can only pray that i reach my dreams,
    so distant, like looking at the earth from outer space
    yet, also like our sweet, dying planet,
    my dreams seem darker and dirtier the closer i get to them

    but there is only one thing to do,
    and that is to keep walking
    left then right, then left again,
    closing in on whatever lies ahead

    that is all we know,
    to trudge along through the deep bullshit and chaotic nonsense
    to make do with gravity,
    eternally dragging us down with the setting sun

    there is a young lady walking alone with her even younger daughter
    seemingly innocent and ignorant to the world passing them by

    the mother,
    unaware that she has lost her face to conformity,
    and how she is doomed by the world she lives in
    the daughter,
    unaware of the tendrils that society has implanted in her brain,
    destroying individualism at its roots

    and I, unaware of the moments still to come,
    with nothing to do but contemplate moments past
    Caulfield Syndrome, or as the bible put it,
    seeing the stick in someone else's eye, without noticing the log in my own

    alone, no lovers, no family, no friends, and again, most importantly, no lovers
    without a hand to hold, or a shoulder to cry upon,
    only the wind with it's cool breeze caressing me

    no time to waste with such subtleties like happiness, or love
    life is short, and when a machine's batteries last only so long,
    you must work them for what they have

    society is a b***h that way, forcing the worst out of everyone,
    and locking the best away for guilt by association
    a generation, doomed by it's peers to be dominated by hatred and rising unemployment

    there are reactions to our every action,
    divine force pulling us towards the abyss known only as "the great unknown"
    and here, on the cliff, we play catcher in the rye, stopping anyone we can,
    and failing miserably to save anyone at all

    we must understand the harsh consequences
    of every atom our body comes into contact with
    every movement taking us towards that inevitable end.
    every step bringing us closer to the cliff

    left, right, then left again, toeing the edge before darkness consumes
    and me, on the seat of my park bench, watching the birds fly by