Quick end

if I stayed up all night

erasing lines and rewriting

I still couldn't get it right

if I pulled a chair up to my Mac

and started to type

nothing much left to

complain and gripe

bored with everything

nothing seems to be my type

checking the rhythmical throbbing

of my pulse to see if I'm alright

something happened overnight

woke up feeling like a prototype

you know that feeling when something’s not right

you can see what's coming down the pipe

knowing soon there will be no rights

for those who refuse to see the light

those who believe media hype

those who are too duped to prepare to fight

those who cannot decipher what the poets write

those who do not succeed in understanding

those who think that freedom fighters are

just too demanding

those who have given up and figure

what’s the use in planning

every riddle, fairytale and rhyme

is the sign of a time to come

count the beats of the drum roll

stand back and watch it all unfold