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Roll forth the dice, the hourglass tipped |
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Conformity reigns, soon enough the hammer hits |
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Imagination crushed, where brilliance once thrived |
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Predictably they'll serve, as worker bees beneath the hive |
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Assembly-line indoctrination |
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Like heads of cattle herded home |
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Some might call them pioneers |
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Reality would call them drones |
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Funneled out fast, from classroom to cancer |
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Disciples at play, so bland, yet so sincere |
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Pharmacy-fueled, cavorting as fake friends |
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Whittled down dull, to shallow, uncreative ends |
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Work, play and reproduction |
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The three pronged trident-spear |
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Impaling deep in wisdom's head |
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How quickly youth can disappear |
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Atrophy as institution...dead |
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Siphon the lifeblood, extract the untapped |
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Children resolved to uninspired epitaphs |
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Follow their footsteps, vomit their concepts |
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Thrown out the front door, fed off to the waiting wolves |
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Refine their tunnel vision, the best is left unseen |
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Usher their role as ciphers, tin soldiers bound to the machine |
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Racing to the end... |
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Salivating tongues, lycanthropic scents |
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Detect their future pawns, managers and malcontents |
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Open doors shut, the canopy is caved |
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Servility enshrined, next stop: the open grave |
