Machine

By Stone Bryson

From the moment of our first breath,

until the sweet release of death,

we are taught to serve and please,

sacrifice to other’s greed.

To be seen, not to be heard,

silent, still - not another word,

no behavior outside the norm,

private thought - maligned and torn.

Parental types and teachers smile,

preparing us to join the pile,

and once we’re groomed out of our dreams

they proudly feed us… to the Machine.

Government, business - organized faith,

mass produce spiritual rape,

combined into this Trinity,

they serve their egos selfishly.

They grease the wheels of servitude,

piece by piece destroying you,

eroding all that makes you strong,

until the spark of life is gone.

Trap you in the daily grind,

eradicating the heart and mind,

assuring you can’t eat or breathe

unless you go… though the Machine

They offer toys at the right price.

keeping us preoccupied,

for if we’re tranced we will not see

the tearing down of liberties.

Thin-green-line’s been worn away,

a slave’s a slave no matter where placed,

the gap’s more narrow than you thought,

‘tween those who have - and who have not.

The choice is there, it’s not half or whole,

have less from them - retain your soul,

live on the fringe and be truly free

or grab success… and die in the Machine.

Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson.  All Rights Reserved.

Written October 2007

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