A reality spent living

Walking through crowded shopping streets,
An impending sense of numbness creeping,
Happy, focused faces of passers-by,
Eyes on the superficial prize.
Glass, felt, fur, all beautiful from a distance,
A collective picture of glittering colours,
Designed to focus the mind.
Look closer.
Threads fraying, handiwork poor,
Delicate details blunt and unclear.
The price we pay to have everything?
Really we have nothing.

Walking away from the hubbub of voices,
Comfortable silence reaching out for my hand.
Soothing darkness away from the harsh lights,
Of the superficial street of dreams.
Look around.
Everywhere lives are driven to consume,
Wasteful existences driving delicate dreams,
Of the selfish riches of the corporate machine.
These economies we cannot live without,
Have only existed for 60 years,
Long enough to be forgotten,
Nearly a lifetime ago.

What did we do, before we saw red,
Each time the glittering Trojans invade,
Our houses, our homes,
Our friends, our loves,
What did we do before this?
What have we really saved,
In creating a great lumbering beast?
Consuming our planet, stripping our pleasure,
Tearing our hearts away from our souls.
Is it possible to feel like an Indian girl,
'Saved' from the savages,
And brought 'home' from the wolves?
Lost in the lights, the bubble of greed,
Wishing for a life simple and free.

Aching for freedom,
Shackles removed,
For fresh rain in springtime,
Laughter and song.
Forgotten, that world envelops the senses,
Fresh picked fruit, cool, wet moss.
Beautiful.
Fulfilling.
Perfect.

Soon.