The Game

Led through life by breadcrumbs of twisted lies

Telling you tales to complete you:

Follow their plan, their path ill-advised;

Recommended route through your life to commute,

To conform to be molded, trained,

To be strained and ingrained;

Upskilled into managed expectations

That you’ll stick to your station:

Underpaid, overworked –

Demand a raise, watch them smirk;

You’ll keep playing their game

Till we all live the same.

Mindless marauding monotonous drones,

Used and untouched, left to find our own way;

Abused and unknown, the past becomes home,

Set in stone, all alone, all along.

You’re not meant to belong;

You’re just meant to be strong.

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