Without Direction Poem by Ray Coleman

We are born without a mission, we are born without a solution.
No answer to our set fourth illusions, we just hide it under our comfortable pollution's.
Never thinking on our own, since birth we never had a home.
Never had a chance to activate our brain on our own.
We are a waiting program to activate once they infiltrate out dome.
A new step but yet we stay prone, we hear the whispers and then we go.
Thinking it's the correct direction home, but the pain that comes with sacrifice will turn you and I into stone.
Just the thought is chilling to the bone.
We must switch our mode, to get our perfect growth. They made this our home with no direction to go,
You control your mind not time.