NOT A MACHINE

~~NOT A MACHINE.

I don’t want to be in a hundred places.
I don’t want to drown in a million faces.
I don’t really know them.
I don’t want to show them who I am.
I just want to dam this increasing flow
Of places, faces I can’t put my finger on.
If I close my eyes they should be gone.
But they linger, hanging on,
Banging on like a spoilt brat.
Droning on about this ‘n’ that,
Like a collective of mad hatters.
Spouting crap about what matters,
And what doesn’t.
What we should and what we shouldn’t do
In their cosy text book world.
It’s about time common sense unfurled its banners.
Taught these crazies some fucking manners.
Seasoned with a little respect.
That’s not too much to expect, is it?
Who are these decision makers?
Who are these uneducated fakers?
They rule the roost with double standards
Leaving me confused, and stranded
In a place I don’t want to be.
Surrounded by a million faces who don’t know me.
And yet ...
They will get the message.
I am the messenger.
The harbinger of doom.
See there is no room for fools.
Not in my world.
Not in my mind.
If that seems to be unkind
I don’t care.
I will not be marginalised.
I will not be compartmentalised.
I refuse to be in a hundred places.
I refuse to drown in a sea of unfamiliar faces.
I am a man not a machine.
That’s all they need to know.

© By: - Pete Slater.    

Poetry

◄ BLINDFOLD

THE BEACH ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message