It seems their hand

They’ve overplayed

And their welcome

Well out stayed

A box of worn tools

That wants to dictate

Creating a landscape

Of worry and hate

Of numbers and rules

And pawns for a plan

Not about living

But more if they can

Crush and contain

What it is that we do

Wanting to change us

To be something new

A dampened down version

To do as we’re told

The future’s not bright

In fact it’s been sold

But we are complicit

If we do go along

With all of the bullshit

And all of the wrong

That is now around us

And more than on show

Time keeps ticking on

And further we go

~

To whatever end

(c) K Wicks