Floating through time,
Slipping through days
Without reason or rhyme,
Counting the ways
That we’re wasting our prime.
What does that even mean?

We struggled through chores
To meet expectations,
And yet at each turn
Confronted accusations,
Judgment, setbacks,
Suppression, attacks.

Set up to fail
So we flunk ourselves.
No use trying our best.
We’ll just blow off the test.
But we’ll do all the rest,
Follow each social rule,
Become the culture’s tool
While spinning
Drowning
In this whirlpool.

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