fauxcroft

Old man sat upon a bench

Wondering what exactly is next,

Young man standing hanging loose

Who feels that he has nothing to lose,

Both are led by eyes so blind

Both are victims of their time,

Domesticated unable to think

Beyond this moment unable to synch,

With conscious reality

They need to be fed with belief.

They follow what they are told

Both of their souls have been sold,

They think they are different but are actually the same

Both a victim of life’s game,

The old man dreams of youth once more,

The young man hopes to find wealth galore,

The old dreams of loves left behind,

The young man seeks a love to be defined,

The old man dwells on opportunities missed,

The young man sees opportunity in everything

But both paths will end much the same

Both lives will be incerated in flames,

Both will regret at the end of their days,

Never having lived their own way,

Never having lived in a unique state

But simply to be the systems slave.