Reindeer Games (apathy of the times)


Apathy becomes the winter chill
People listening to the commentary

Of the goings on, the slaps of Big Brother,
A testimony of the times.

There are drones and satellites, thermal maps
And functional magnetic resonance imaging,

The hearts are like frozen freezers,
And eyes painted in icicles,

And one woman, she goes to the doctor,
And keeps her eggs cryopreserved,

Hoping that day, the world
Will reverse to be more humane one

When her egg will go under the eye
When a needle will inject some life into it,

And big brother will watch this child,
While people will listen to the commentary,

While the child grows up, his whole life
A public spectacle, feigned by the cruelty of society

When technology is like a spider’s web
And the boy is a poor lost fly,

And what callousness, when that boy
Begins to think that he is love with a girl,

Only to find the perfect convenience,
A perfect match in the perfect show.

And they say the show must go on, and on,
The show of how mankind is a stage,

And all the citizens are actors, and the
Prophesy of Shakespeare, almost like Nostradamus,

And this Orwellian tragedy will go on, and on,
Hushed by the curiosity of millions,

The chill of apathy, like frostbite,
Injuring more than the mere visibilities,

How the conscience erodes, day after day,
And in time becomes like the tundra,

Little life inside, and Rudolf that grown man,
Still makes it all authentic, to feel real,

The truth is we all make the best of our own realities,
In these times of reindeer games.

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