sylviasearcher

The Clique

 

They are everywhere she turns on empty streets and vacant greens
The Cliques.
They are grinning wide eyed and ready
To praise or scorn
What will please them?
The reflection of themselves
A thousand times?
Again.
Again.
Again.

A secret
Binds

Unwritten
Divides

Truth
Denies

Belonging
Blinds

They fill her empty head with noise and spit invisible poison across her vacant circle
The Cliques.
Are they grinning wide eyed and ready
To belong or be alone
What will please them?
The illusion of themselves
A thousand generations?
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.

Human Destiny
In?
Or
Out?