Greeting Dystopia From a Streetcar Named Growth
Hello, hey, hi dystopia,
The same country where white faces snort coke in ya,
The same place where color draws lines between folk in ya,
The same land where few tell many what’s dope in ya,
I am your friendly neighborhood dissenter,
And I am currently embarking on a ground breaking adventure,
Of exposing you,
Of those borne in doom and gloom,
Sweep the problems with the broom,
See the problem with I,
Is as much as I see,
The solutions to this planet are not one two three,
No one said itd be easy.
So I aim to do my part.
Utopian society will probably not exist,
Because secrets degrade humanity,
Greed undermines sanity,
When “civilization” gets a hand in thee,
Discourse becomes muddied about things in antiquity,
Like fundamental human metaphysics,
And a conscious understanding of compassion,
Those comes crashin,
Down at the identification of man’s fallibility.
I’ve struck the same vein being mined by
Men of Great Names,
Doing Great things.
And these Flaws so poignantly pointed out,
Pervasive in their poisonous snouts,
Have drawn men to Religion, Philosophy,
Government and Business.
Strife and War.
The very tension that lies beneath the surface of a man’s heart,
Is from the same womb of Free Choice,
That wee voice informing you of how you “feel”.
Absent to what’s real.
So Doctrines, Dogmas, and Pedagogies,
Rafted down rivers to be absorbed or shafted,
Crafted with sometimes ill intentions or good,
Or good intentions gone ill,
Or the coercion to certain men of skill’s will,
Like bills flowing from treasuries,
We are told that theses manifestos are valued.
Yet the tension with the man’s heart is something like a deluge,
So in order to tell you something that will gel through,
Hearts must be receptive.
Therein lies the tools of the deceptive.
Welcome to 2011.
Oh hey dystopia. Fancy finding you here.