Everyone’s got their head in the clouds

Everyone’s got their head in the clouds.

The only problems left are invisible,

Like diminishing inequalities,

Grief is famous, and shame enormous,

So, “Get born and click here for morals.”

We think we have transcended our bodies,

That our only concern is their faces and mouths,

Nevermind mirrors.

It is a very loud, huge village.

It is: who can shout louder from the watchtower?

— but profit cares not what one shouts about.

And your dopamine sees not that no beauty is original;

You might be dancing with the devil.

Threats to memories and past battles: no matter

— good feelings seem nicer with no energy.

Threats to breath, heartbeat, and grandchild

— we huddle and just say stuff, with storms far and empty.

We are only allowed to work for someone else,

And never the ending death.


It was once as clear as, leave your mother, love your life.

But a chance seed grows no trees,

And we wish to forget.

The serpent protrudes and promises Worth

From and to every heart.

May the weak join in shouting

With the white sureness of a leader of thieves,

Just hovering in place,

The brightening sun shining,

Our darkening shadow below.


Never am I allowed no shoulds and ambition.

I do not want death, none would.

My warnings hang far above.

But angels will not reach down, for there’s no loving fission.