It is 18:02 on a gloomy evening within a necessary cube,
Sprinting words race out of living humus,
Breathing homos are enslaved to the spirit of boredom,
Innocent eyes faced with intimidation from the giant called sleep,
Brains screaming voiceless words “Come on, give me a break”,
Time taking the form of a slow parasite on our will,
All Pasteurians never mind getting famous for a moment,
A hypo-question of a virus seeking applause,
A can of Coca-cola taking a fearless stance on a flat mountain,
Yet the euro casts a spell to keep souls on their seats,
Tireless logos seem to endlessly dictate our very freedom,
But time smiles in anticipation of our emancipation,
For soon, the voiceless shall speak a melody,
And we shall be truly human again.
And have our freedom from knowledge.
Beautiful as always. Very relatable.
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What a poem!
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I look forward to that time when we shall be truly human again.
That time, we shall be truly free 🕊
Thanks for penning this.
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Indeed Israel, we can’t wait.
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