A number in the book

By
As Lady Liberty shifts her eyes
The cries of her people are not heard
There is falsehood care.
None of it is true.

We are but a number in her book
Like a doll in a toy chest we are seen
Only used when we are needed
To defend the country that is no more
A victorious hero fallen in his own power.

Our taxes raise yet nothing to show
Our identities are yet still taken
A certain style is all that matters

The same portrait is what we are seeing.
The “perfect” children with blonde hair and blue eyes
With the perfect parents involved in everything
This is not a 50s sitcom.
This is life.

People are different, they are not mass-produced
And yet our numbers are all they know
Pulled up only when they need a favor
One that they do not return.

Our barcodes are the only thing
Scanning us is all they care about
As long as it’s there,
The longer they manipulate
We are not puppets.
We are people.

And yet Liberty still shifts her eyes,
The day is done
The numbers go to sleep.
This is life.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback