Anonymous Norman Poet I do not know?

The Shackles of Culture

Blinded by desensitisation
So used to what is not and what is so good
Yet so detached from what is real or illusion
Makes you follow a false idol
Perpetuate the confusion
The fools pinnacle of culture
Where the unicorn becomes a vulture
By selling lies in schools
Indoctrinating elitist rules
Making us all fools
Rich for the picking
Slaves for life without even realising
Born into bondage
Forever the consumer
Forever the worker
Forever the slave
The shackles of culture.

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Kim M April 7, 2010 at 3:37 AM I appreciate your perspective in this poem. Likewise, I appreciate comments you made in my father's poem, "No Tomorrow". Your words: "there is no tommorow, or yesterday. no past or future, these exist in abstract form of expectation and memory, there is only the present moment in which to grasp and experience the magnitude of life. The sound of tommorow lures you away from the beauty of today." A philosopher, you are.

Ismael Nieves November 1, 2009 at 3:55 PM I see your vision has penetrated the obscure curtains. Though we need education I won't deny the fact that it has been currupted by the GLUTTONS. Nice composition.