I am...I am the revolution ..and he,
HE is in it with me
The files that once piled up on his table
Are now piling up faster on his lap(top)
And he must carry it along... everywhere!
He has no voice, he cannot unchain himself
The sweat, the tears, the blood on chains
No longer visible in the unreal world
In this webbed existence...Freedom,
Is no longer even the dream
He has found reasons to justify
The unjustified and the unreasonable
Seeking small pleasures in his pains
He has negotiated with reality...
'An illusion of happiness'
He has no time... not even to ponder
Why he has none...every moment 24×7...
There are strangers on his windows
(No, not of his house) the virtual one !
He stares through it at midnight...with swollen eyes
They feed on his story... they are all hungry for more
Remember it was "THE DEAL"
They must know...he must TAG...where he went
What he did... what he ate...what he wore
He has to... satisfy his urge to update them
Inturn they will sell him...all that he does not need
(For this is necessary) to lubricate the vicious cycle
Of consumption... to keep him running a mad race
His life is passing by BUT Life is passing him by!
He hates me...
I am... the REVOLUTION (within)
He has battered me to unconsciousness
He cannot bear to confront me...for fear
of loss of his remaining self esteem...(Maybe,
Physical slavery was better than the Mental one)