Learn more about other poetry terms

Big Brother watches us, down on the ground, Doing what we are told, not making a sound. We listen, follow commands, its our nature, No other lifestyle that we know. Telescreens looking close, that's the game, 
  This is the world, The world I endure, Where clones follow clones— What is the allure?   Blank are the stares,
I stand in an empty room But I am not alone. Big Brother is watching you. I think in my own head But everyone knows my thoughts Big Brother is watching you. I whisper to myself But everyone can hear me Big Brother is watching you.
We are the deadStanding, surrounded by gravesOur idol destroys or saves.
Left or Right? Up or Down? Black or White? The switch is found   Life or Death? Give or Take? Crack or Meth? Lose the fake
You, the ones before us, burnt the world to ash And we were left to pick through the cinders. You say to yourselves in muffled voices,
The everyday rush, The voice never hushed: What's the truth, what's the meaning? Is there purpose for living? I ask when I pause, When I feel that I've strayed. Am I holding the cause,
My life was short My life was cruel. Winston was my brother But he hardly felt as one. I never was a child I never lived my life. I was robbed of a past I was robbed of a future.
Subscribe to 1984