Are You Reading Me?
How much of what we see is real?
How much of what we think and feel
Is something someone else contrived
The very second we arrived,
A bundle of potential they
Immediately start to sway,
Another fresh consumer born
The cold machine shall ply with scorn
Determined to destroy each soul
Their techno mojo can’t control,
So don’t believe what you have seen
Upon your precious little screen
If you do you'll pay the price
And always will be their device.
I tried to give my life meaning
But never could clearly define
This latent apprehension
That defies comprehension
And always has me leaning
On these battlements of mine,
When context has no bearing
The truth won’t make much sense
Avoiding the arrangement
That spells out my estrangement
Facilitates the tearing
Down of this old fence.
Twenty years after the fall
Their lies were enough to appall
Twenty-five years now and still
Deceit continues to spill—
Such tales (like towers) grow tall
Such schemes (like ever) will kill.
