The status quo, Oh! How I hate that word.
It always summons to my mind a bleak
Condition. Something static; the absurd.
Incapable of change. A sluggish clique
Contented to remain immovable.
Consequently, the common people keen
To worship creeds that are improvable.
Beliefs in doctrines as contrived as dreams.
The branded multitude we label free.
The mark is either cross or star to make
A difference. There’s no difference! See
The cows in meadows! Their future is Steak!
We also are contented creatures, dumb.
Unable to assert ourselves. How come?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem