Unfulfilled Void

I see people in their rooms,  

watering plants that don’t need water,  

holding phones that don’t ring,  

no one on the other end.  

Their rooms are dark, silent.  

Nothing but a TV screen,  

always tuned to the news  

of a dying world.  

People aren’t alive;  

they’re already dead inside.  

People can’t be killed;  

they’ve died a thousand times.

 

A dog has a purpose: to please its master.  

A cat, to hunt rats.  

A blackbird sings at dawn.  

People? They stare at gray walls,  

dreaming of a rainbow life  

that hasn’t happened,  

hoping it will.  

There’s beauty in that hope.

 

They say God watches and loves us all,  

but we’re just pawns of someone’s hate.  

If God’s watching,  

and we’re still left to suffer,  

maybe we’re pawns  

in a game He doesn’t even play.  

People aren’t alive;  

they’re already dead inside.  

People can’t be killed;  

they’ve died a thousand times.

 

We’ve become so artificial,  

more like machines than humans.  

Our thoughts are pre-programmed,  

our emotions dull and distant.  

We lost our consciousness,  

our innocence,  

the moment we were born.  

From that day,  

there's no such thing as being human.  

We are told what to think,  

what to feel,  

and if we don’t obey,  

we end up in jail or the madhouse.

 

A currency that’s worthless,  

yet they keep printing paper,  

flooding the world with promises  

that buy nothing but debt.  

Into schools where tuition is so high,  

it’s cheaper to remain uneducated.  

Knowledge is locked behind gates,  

only the wealthy hold the keys.  

The sick, forgotten and left in the dark,

waiting for a light that never comes. 

A law that favors the rich.  

Governments keep changing,  

but poverty stays the same.  

They can’t solve homelessness,  

because they profit from despair.  

Glorifying criminals as so-called saviors,  

poisoning young minds to worship them.  

They tell them to work hard,  

to chase the dream of wealth,  

but most die chasing shadows,  

leaving behind nothing,  

no name to remember.

 

We make guns, bombs, nukes,  

use them on each other.  

They say it’s for people’s freedom,  

but freedom is just another cage.  

Those who preach freedom are often the most bound,  

enslaved by power, by greed,  

by the very systems they claim to protect.  

Freedom from leaving our souls behind?  

What a wonderful world we live in.

 

We see all this,  

yet question those who call it out.  

After reading this,  

some will say I’m insane,  

a madman, an idiot,  

someone with no life.  

But if everyone else has a life,  

before you question me,  

ask yourself first:  

What’s the true reason you’re living for?  

What keeps you going?  

Because if I don’t ask,  

someone else will.

 

This is what I love.  

It’s the only thing  

that keeps me from losing my mind,  

the reason I exist at all.  

I am a failure,  

but my purpose is to show  

the world I still exist.

 

There’s no time for love,  

only for betrayal.  

No time for sleep,  

just passing out.  

No time to eat,  

just to swallow poison.  

No time to laugh,  

just to numb the pain.  

No time for compassion,  

only contempt.

 

But there’s always time for hate.  

Plenty of time to ignore the ones who care,  

to deceive and abandon them.  

We fill the orphanages,  

stack the old age homes.  

There’s time for violence,  

time to steal what’s never yours,  

time to hurt and destroy,  

time for murder,  

time for lives never lived.  

Time to hoard wealth,  

forgetting there’s only six feet of ground  

waiting for us all,  

or maybe the fire,  

if you’re unlucky.

 

We exist too much,  

when we need less of us.  

Less of me,  

the blank thinker,  

writing in this unfulfilled void.  

We’re already dead inside.  

We need an end.  

Or maybe,  

nothing at all.