Bleak seems the forthcoming

I’d like to leave before we fall

There’s something we must do

But our apathy never ceases to call

A sprout won’t grow if there

Are stones above the soil

Only will it see the sun if

It lifts them off itself

We’re tumbling off the top shelf

We contort around like dolls

With our hands tied behind our backs

Our problem-solving is stalled

O master please take us there

You may be listening but you don’t care

To rewrite the future by our own will?

Never would we dare.


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