DOWN PRESSED

I am but a man trapped in a time that seems unfamiliar, born to goals and expectations that feel false, a son of god born amongst brothers and sisters that walk alone. I am a thinker, a creative soul inventing in a time of cloned ideas and old philosophies. A poor man without a penny forced to work in a factory that produces the same. Chained to debt, a slave to the economic burden of success and all the material goods that are associated with a dream dreamt by selfish men. I am awake. Surrounded by greed and false idols constructing empires built on sand, I stand on solid ground at the centre of it all. I am a child of Babylon. -Mr.-