By: Mark.A Pritchard (aka SwindonPoet/Rorshach1004)
Date: 15th September 2015
I understand the feeling, the need intensifying, to leave it all alone.
To smile, though nobody looks, cares.
To turn from the noise, from the jump on sentences, repeating themselves for infinitely.
Recycled ideologies, personality types, life stories, falling for the same old tricks, again and again.
Our age, our time, our ruination, humans devolving, and now, it’s time to walk away from the crowd.
Degenerated mass, circus animals, performing tricks, to amuse each other, not caring about their own enslavement.
They love it.
They really do.
Exchange whip, fight for ownership of coercion.
Sales talk, just talk, they love a good con man, woman now.
The only option for the awake is to walk, away from their cage love, circus love, love of the lie.
To leave the car in rush-hour traffic, throw the iphone away, embrace the quiet solitary life, away from the dull noise collective.
Broken routine, reclamation, noise fading, mind silence, quietude expansion, a chosen walk, away.
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