See Through

Maybe it’s all see through.

Maybe life seems shorter.
Maybe we never grew-
Too busy
With building borders
and moving forward...
Only to raise statues-
Frozen in time as they are getting older.

Maybe it’s all opaque.
Some times seems faded and blurry.
Trying to escape memories-
Written in fiction
and liars telling stories.

Maybe it’s all a stage.
Everyone is part of the set-
Everything is a prop,
The situation we are in,
not by chance that this is a mess.

All the people we’ve seen and met,
All the times- we’ve seen them leave-
Maybe we are all actors playing a role in a scene-
Maybe these scenes are make believe.

Without ever leaving the stage.
Without ever knowing the depth.

All of it predetermined-
Acting out a play-
Maybe too far fetched.
Usually, it’s in my head.

Waiting for the action to take place-
So we can add a filter to the moment-
Societal narcissism-
digital makeup on our faces and
in our voices.
Social media- snap this,
I ain’t about fB cuz they say insta is more legit.
both companies owned by the same entity:
who you trying play here-
Whatever they are selling-
stop buying into it.

filtered or no filter-
digital is fake.
Controlling the rates and placements of psychological manipulation.
Well orchestrated propaganda for brain waves.
Left and right sides divided.
Segregation.
To show the world how good we really got it.
Lies to show off our place,
Streaming green screens from our basements.

Like our lives are great-
Like America is better.
Like we have something others don’t-
Like city rats addicted to cheddar.

Like city dwellers paying into their enslavement-

They call it “home” and spend their lives working to pay “taxes”,
karma can be a bitch coming back for the killing of the masses.
War torn families,
because we paid for those tactics.
Brothers killing each other-
Just to afford the classes.
Brothers killing each other-
Just to get a reaction.
ration.


Like we have better Education,
higher IQ,
zero sustainability,

with people without food.
Outsourced the industry-
Broken history,
With books that teach no truth
highest rates of suicide,
And what we we eat,
I question if it’s real food.

we built our homes
on wartime graves.
To tell stories about how we feel.
So entitled.
Like we didn’t steal-
I earned what I got-
And what we thought was ours was
Uniformly not.

Maybe it’s all make believe.
Doubt it was all imagined-.
Maybe life gets longer.
Or maybe its a script that never ends
and we live in eternity til our mind caves-
Space gives- time bends.
Maybe another set or stage play-
Maybe it’s for show
Maybe it’s just a game-
Or maybe its game over-

Lights dimmed.
The show ended-
Maybe life as we knew it
is gone, finished, and done-

you can too be an author of this scene-
In which it has just begun.

-KJB Press (c) 2020