THE DISSIDENT OF BLEAK

You will own nothing

Yet be happy…

But can I still own myself ?

Or be a slave to the plantation

Of one world-One nation…

Herded into Lego Cities

Powered by windmills

Fed a diet of insects

No culture No gender

No history No borders

No freedom, faith, hope or future…

Passively led like lambs to the slaughter

Smile-Appear happy or no social credits

A weird sense of irony

For humour is banned…

This Utopia run by faceless technocrats

With no heart, empathy or compassion

Faux lovers of Mother Earth

A strange sense of fashion

True haters of humanity

Madness has now become

Our new replacement for sanity!

Our rulers who own nothing

But somehow have everything!

Pass me my soma

Let me drift away

To find the man I once was

Before my chemically induced lobotomy

Pink Floyd still playing

Deep inside my head….

Hope you receive my postcard

Before I’m found dead

It was of this fine country mansion

We are all standing outside

Blank smiling faces

Brains that are fried…

I hear my guards clapping

Fed the new doctrine

Like bait in a trap

The bars of their cages

Buried deep in the mind

Thinking they are free

Toeing the line…

Not me Jack

As another thousand volts

Shoots up through my spine

Just telling the truth

Now considered a crime

Like a caged canary

Deep down a mine

Like a caged canary

Just doing my time……

M C Bolton, November 2022

photo by tc

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