Waiting to fall,
Into the numbing trap
Of existence for our own sake,
And not for others
The shiny baubles on shelves,
The must haves, we must have
The honey flows over,
The glass jars of emptiness
That wait to be filled,
So we can be relevant
The echoes of resistance,
Are stifled
As we are swept,
To the temples of consumption
Those other lives we don't see,
Beyond the amber
The oceans of want,
The hunger of the empty jars
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Ron