Too many people
Empty mindless
Too many thoughts
Consumed with self love
Too many opinions
Fewer choice
It's hard to accept obscurity
But when you are in a few billion
That's not only not obscene
Anything other is absurdity
Chockablock dense
Less substance more pretense
Wooly logic magical whim
Dire very dire
Prognosis dim
Still the colors tell a tale
Of life, of how it's fleeting
That this is the only moment
We get to be this way
For what it's worth
In deepest despair
In the loneliest hours
I see some hope in fear
Barefoot on the grass
Playing air guitar
A mess of memories
Voices from far
Brain-melting puzzles
Cartoon hero shy and dull
A world full of struggles
Unnerving lullaby lull
