animal
Here we are trapped beneath the hateful sky
So shallow, so alone, born without purpose
Given no freedom, we hate ourselves to be
And annoy those about, awakened to frightful
Ceaseless in our wandering, misshapen in our haste
We become the awful, rushed, hurried, frazzled
Could there be even now beyond our wildest thoughts
Our strangest concoction of existence once
Here we lie beneath, filtered distilled
Forgotten by land and progenitor
No hope outside the ceaseless beat
No wisdom aside from that of flight
Well said. I immediately thought about how I walked from car to office this morning, straight legged and robotic, forced and fast, with no ease, briefcase bumping mechanically against my thigh, my whole frame an embodiment of the industrial revolution, just to gain a couple of seconds on the day. We have reverted to a new stage of savage. How can we overcome?
Comment by Sunsun — 24 November 2008 @ 8:55 pm