Searching eyes

Pierce through thick smoke

Denial is the essence of deceit,

Yet in the hands of the big people,

It is disguised as unrelinquished hope,

A false guise

Big lies

By tall people

With big eyes

Who see the scope

But won’t show pity,

Who fear discomfort

But don’t offer a blanket,

To the glistening eyes and hopeful hands,

That fear the people

Who fear themselves,

The eyes of power invade the towers,

Compressed souls

And caged hearts

Suited up

For the killing,

Consolidating deals by pen and paper

A tidy job,

A solution to the glaring eyeballs of lost hope and torn lives,

A bandage, a stitch-work

Can barely see the wound that was once the main part of the form,

A patchwork of promises

A scar-riddled carcass

Surrendered to the cycle,

Of cut, paste and copy

Sealed and sent out

For wide distribution,

An inescapable prison

Filed by a mechanical heart

That pumps through big cities

And large publications,

We, the people, feed off the information

Free, in the open,

Provided to ease civilians,

Metallic grins,

black and white prints,

punchy headlines,

and quoted opinions,

keep the scope within the system

and validate the debate with falsely sanctified reasoning,

no longer strumming the heart strings,

but playing with vulnerable lives,

outside lives,

distant lives,

by way of logical reductionism