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Rated: E · Poetry · Opinion · #2206514
The matrix that we all know, the machine, built to keep us all in line.
And the sun doesn't always shine on the chosen ones
Because this life isn't easy
Join the herd, milk your soul, in the rat run
For we're grown and taught to be greedy
Are your eyes square glaring at the white screens?
Do you gather all the supermarket tokens?
Don't forget to oil your resistance.
You need proteins, routines, machines.
Hush now, bleed dry, follow the notions.
Haha! Your silence cannot be broken.
Stand firm, don't break, where's the counsellor?
Don't think, listen well, to the whisperer.
For the sun, don't always shine on the chosen ones.
And the bait will always offer an illusion.
Hear the rain? It's the tears of the dying ones.
For the years, that they gave disillusioned.
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