As the ancient calendar tick tocked louder as the days approached, it became more apparent.
Clarity was showing it's harsh truth, like a winter for the haggard old ones.
The blues have slowed you down.
The world is upside-down.
The human spirit sighs, when no answers arise.
And in the end days of the county fair the crowds bustled along hurrying to fill their shopping days with pleasure to find the modern snake oil to fill their lives from the void of their existence.
If you listen closely in the southeast wing of building 4, you can hear a mother whisper to her new young adult daughter why she should complete the application for the privledge to vote.
The rebellion was subtley expressed by her remark.
The same remark her mother once held and believed.
What difference can I make, I am powerless?
My opinion is of a mutant.
Then, everyone went back to their places and I awoke from the dream only to be enlightened by Hector of what I wouldn't dare admit aloud. There is an invisible veil of lies.
It's a sugar coated classification, mummification of lies.
Regarding everything that what which we supposedly stand for, prejudice is alive and well.
You are not free, this your hell.
Some have privledge, and depending of the color of your skin, you secretly get and things come easier, while you suffer so you make them suffer so...so be it.