Pipe Dream
A stroke of genius
illuminated the skies
as, in synchronization,
we collectively
came together to rejoice
(and) set ourselves apart.
As if by divine
intervention, we
were inexplicably struck
with the notion that
we were not as cold
and simple-functioned
as the steel cogs in
the machine,
steadfastly driving
away from that which
makes us individuals.
A system put into place
by those that chose tangible
commodities (and) production
because the blinding aura
of philosophy
was drowned beneath the
eternal black (of) ignorance.
(The) crucification
of our creativity
could no longer go
unwarranted as
our collective conscience
made a guttural bellow
that the fallacy
of security
in retirement
was an insignificant
reward in exchange
for (an) entire existence
of indentured servitude.
We touched the image
(of) creation.
We grasped (and) slowed our minds.
We reinvigorated
(our) chivalrous intent.
Our humble
assemblage flourished
as, united, we emerged
as a catalyst
for the celebration of
(the) human condition.
poem by Brandon Tyler Mahrt
Added by Poetry Lover
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