The Gulag

The Gulag 11/19/2012

The Future creeps with every decision
Evacuating the past
And flooding the present
Only to wash us out
Back to where we started.

My thoughts and ideas
Are not new or unique
For everything that is
Has been dreamed before.

I am a container
A sack of flesh and bone
A seat for the soul
And a prison for the spirit.

We experience life
On a field of four dimensions
Trapped in a petri dish
And watched every day.

Free to fumble in the dark
And struggle to survive
But always succumbing in the end
And floating on our sides.

The joke is on us
While we fight and flail
Just keeping our heads above water
And afraid of ourselves.

If we knew our own power
Then nothing could hold us back
Free to make the world over
Any time we wished.

No mountain could block us
And no ocean to separate us
As we knew when to act
And what to do.

Doubt has killed many
And hesitation has made the difference
As we go against our instincts
And shake hands
With the devil.

What glory could we have
If we stood the test
Standing by our children
And never giving up.

If we chose to be happy
With what we have
Instead of always searching
And looking to escape.

Courageous enough to defend
All the blessings we know
Instead of bargaining in our minds
And looking the other way.

Tyranny would never survive
And injustice would fade away
If only we knew
How to say no.