Riddle me this
How dismal is the turning circle on a square?
That has no answer to bare on the surface
But has called a thought to the hair
Running tracks have no signs
Feet know how to take a turn
Bare bottoms pace their spaces
Hurdles know their tune
It’s not the down that matters
Yet it’s the journey to the “up”
With each stage met
you hold a number
One that will be called and tucked
Stand steady... flow calmly through the system
Rings wrapping, card swiping games
Where hands hold you to stop
And white legs free you to go
Read the signs!
They’re all about you...
This is not a dread locked thing
Divine conception of the heart
Tunnel vision gets you sick
Where can you go when all you find yourself doing is reading
the signs?
Makes you miss all that you ought to see
The false sense of being “up there” when you’re really not
When making it to the top is all you can dream
Cause you’re lowest to the low
Stop reading the signs!
Stop being “systemized”
Snap out your trance
And after that you’ll be hearing
We! We! We! All the way home
To comb your kinks to the new beginning
From roots on end
Something about that trend that makes me sick
Make cure for me in my new verse
WAKE up! Get out the system
1 comment:
hmm...this has my antennas up. u said its not a dreadlock thing but rastafarians, more so than christians, run from the system... all in all i like...
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