silent voice

a time consumer, a pulp affliction

a barrier to reaction, a grey restriction

the politicisation of inward breathing

inequalities that set you seething

this is a time for remuneration of fame

when you, yes you, played the bullshitter’s game

so as we do, do what we can

vote according to our roots and clan

and as provocative anecdotes prevail

to our partisan destiny we set sail

this is a time for tribal retention

without dissidence or vile contention

hey, the future’s here and as we sit

pondering on this pile of shit

who’s to blame for the latest strife

maybe it’s time to sharpen the knife

this is the time for radical change

another direction, though seems so strange

but that was then, and this is now

still worshipping strong your sacred cow

believing not belief is bent

psychobabble, not heaven sent

this is the time for people power

to countenance in your final hour

this parallel spell, observe upon

the choice, was fiction, not even gone

and all is calm, no uttered choice

their naked thoughts and silent voice

this is the time of cliquers true

see, twas them, but was it you

©HeyHey 2014