Wednesday 30 September 2015

Drone Strike

I don't wanna be your drone
And I don't wanna work from home
I don't wanna end up all alone
So I'm on strike, I won't answer the phone,
 
And I don't wanna be remote controlled,
Mindless, lifelessly do what I'm told,
So I'm outta the game,  I'm leaving the fold,
This drone has a voice and it won't be sold,
 
I don't wanna chase your pot of gold,
I hate what you love, I detest it's hold,
Nothing has changed from days of old,
You gain the whole world,
But forfeit your soul,
 
I don't wanna live for a Web of lies
I don't wanna become what I despise,
I won't be kept down,  my soul will rise,
You pin me to the earth,  but I'll reach for the skies,
 
I don't wanna work anymore for you,
I reject your terms and conditions too,
I've seen their effects and what they do,
I'm telling you now,  that's it, we're through,

And you can chase me down the street,
Take me to court, I'll take the heat,
I'll keep walking to where sky and land meet
Even if you nail my hands and feet,

I don't wanna be your pet,
The treats you offer, I never get,
You stroke my ego, I take the bet,
But the winner has never materialised yet.

I don't wanna be your wage slave,
Or live in the land of the broke and the brave,
I've seen your success and what it gave,
The cess pit, and not Aladdin's cave,

No, I don't wanna be your slave,

I don't wanna make the noise
The drone of complaint from the girls and the boys,
When within the pram, we keep the toys,
We satisfy ourselves with such trivial joys,

No I'm on strike, here's what I'll do,
I sit on the bog and write a haiku,
on the wall to say why I am leaving you,
So you can read my resignation when you're on the loo,

And now that I have left the hive,
You will still go on and thrive,
You can replace me in less than five,
With more dead drones,
But at least I am alive

This drone is on strike, that's it, I've gone,
You'll barely notice, you'll carry on
It's hardly like I dropped a bomb,
Whilst here, It's hardly like I shone,
But at least I left with some aplomb,

No, I don't wanna be your drone.

I won't live for a Web of lies
I won't become what I despise,
I won't be kept down, my soul will rise,
You pin me to the earth,  but I'll reach for the skies




 
 
 
 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Cushion of The Years (Shield against Apollyon)

  Tonight, at 51, With the duvet pulled up to my ears, I will play myself to sleep, With the cassette replacement, Of the tape my mother bou...