mirage

with the wool over my eyes, i never slept better. i can finally get away from empty words of hopeless hopes and all the stupid dreams that keep us afloat. but i'd rather stay awake cuz it's this nightmare i can't shake.

more violent means to unexamined ends can only leave us dead. i still take part in a system i find flawed: a gear turning towards disaster, and i am a cog. for my interests, money isn't involved but it's still the thing around which i revolve. we're so scared to think on our own: made to believe this place is home. this false sense of security suffocates. we're led by a single mind too afraid to debate. no room for a real dialogue. ask a question, face the firing squad. real thought is suppressed for need of control. we wander through life not aware of what they stole. the things we value have made us ill. bedridden and sick, no longer with the will -- to think. to challenge. punishments that don't fit the crimes. a life in prison for being a product of the system; while a killer walks away with a slap on the wrist. because oscar grant represents the problem that still persists. that we will mount an army to fight a perceived thug. we refuse to shed a tear, but we'd love to shed your blood.

why are we unable to see past the mirage placed before our eyes? not ready to move past the facade we call our lives. these are the symptoms of our diseased ways. with no impending change, i'm counting down our numbered days.