This is the world,

The world I endure,

Where clones follow clones—

What is the allure?


Blank are the stares,

And blank are the minds.

In this place,

Thought is a crime.


Thought is a crime,

Yes, thought is a bore.

Living in Orwell’s 1984.


You’re all alike,

So please forgive me;

Forgive me for choosing to see.


My eyes possess sight,

My mind always thinks.

Thinking is odd,

For those who don’t blink.


Accept what you hear,

Hear what you like,

Hearing is lost,

This place is a fright.


Say what you hear,

Don’t hear what you say,

You know you’re a lie—

Pretend anyway.


Hide truth away,

And fake your way through,

Deceive yourself,

As if no one knew.


And most puppets won’t know,

They won’t see past you,

You are like them.

They are like you.


Blank are the stares,

Blank are the minds.

Living in hell,

With thoughts that aren’t mine.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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