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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required As if there were a tightrope on which we walk a perilous pathway strung down the middle of our lives balanced by a blindfold each footstep to be placed when and where we're told Children with guns made of plastic and plastic babies are fantastic a futures generation of mothers supplying soldiers for the armies all fighting for their freedom all defending their god given liberties Either die in bloody uniforms live their lives on medications or join the unaffected ranks of the wealthy to live in a ghetto or party in a penthouse still it's a struggle for survival grab it while you can but anyway don't forget me The world is overflowing but the children they are born growing up within this scarcity a thousand million distractions won't buy them all the things they are told they are going to need it's a thousand million children addicted to their television screens And somewhere in the third world the same children know starvation or spend their youth building little trinkets in a sweatshop factory plastic guns and plastic babies death and birth for the fantasy of Western morality So the movies keep on rolling pumping out their messages in the papers and the magazines the narrative and the stories the future of humanity snapshot in a photograph of its predicted destiny The mothers keep on crying as their children keep on dying and the world is overflowing with insanity little trinkets in a sweatshop factory plastic guns and plastic babies a hundred generations still struggling for survival without a question is this way it should be Sold the Kodak moments identity numbered and bar coded stamped and filed on the paperwork forms of property constant media manipulation and no one tells us the truth anymore the lies are too important in the conundrum of their investment keeping us all fooled is the policy The problem is our children they must curtail their growing sense of freedom and push them into the molded authority fascism disguised as liberalism and the purchased liberation of seemingly innocuous possessions to falsify a sense of individuality Suck it up and drink it up ignorance in our clever paper cup when did we become so indolent simply choosing to walk the tightrope blindfold balanced down a narrow path strung out between our death and birth and all our thoughts for what they're worth make no difference to the children's inheritance the world remains the same and maybe just a lot more worse than the one they will leave behind
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