A poem came to me today
We are all being marked
Into digits and lyrics
Into distant physics
We are being marked
By speed and greed
By fear and apologies

We're being told that
The system works
That it must be followed
By suspending disbelief

But the system is like
A disease that comes so slowly
Creating a flush, looking pretty
And then it takes over
It takes over the body and the mind
Creating amnesias and disorders of all kinds

Until one day the spirit rolls over to die
Leaving in its wake a puppet
That doesn't know
who pulled the strings,
who called the shots,
who told the story.

A puppet that is too tired and overworked
To ask why?