As my mind's eye hovers on high
I see a tired and sickly self
At my solitary station
Gazing into an inky eve
Tis often I’ll observe this way
As a constant reminder rote
The illusion of the man
Trifling away his precious time
The biddable well-trained servant
Earning his bi-weekly stipend
Just to be benignly returned
The price for very existence
Forever grateful to have lived
A portion my time allotted
Free from the tricksters of bondage
The veil placed at birth now lifted© Copyrights G. Jones 2012
Very beautiful
ReplyDelete