A Wandering Mind Can Be A Sloppy Thing Poem by Paulina Varela

look at us racing to the end of our time
Contemplating what's really insignificant at that moment
Leading us into the thorough analysis of nothingness
Blurting out truths and feed others lies
Using manipulative means to losing the loads
Latching onto hope of something better
Like a tick hoping to survive
Sucking the life of another like a mindless parasite
Unaware of what's around us like a blinded cow
We lie defenseless as we drown
Hoping to hide what's really underneath that cherry tree
Knowing the roots will expose us all someday
Maybe Monday maybe no days will be left after
Then there's a question upon yet another question
Constantly we're wondering what will happen when we meet our end
Will we go somewhere pleasant, will we be reborn
Will we see red or will we shine,
Seared as babes into some hypnotic cycle to go about our days,
Doing what we always do as we are told to do,
Though some try to stand out, though in fact it is as if,
Most of the time they are pushed out of the crowd,
Left out to be stepped upon upside the heads, to mold them
They are wielded back into the line all walk about,
The big thumb is gonna smash them they fear,
Are we ants or are we the ones feared.