Human

Oh, we all want to be different, no use lying
But then we contradict ourselves; we want to belong
this mixed desire, this innate contradiction:
To be an individual, a whole
And to be a part, rather than apart
What do we expect from life?
We're wishing for both North and South
both West and East
as we wish we were older, then wish we were younger
Satisfied by death but obsessed with life
with holding on to that vibrant string until it finally snaps
and we tumble into our restful graves.

Staring but so rarely seeing anything new
We seek novelty from the comfort of our recliners
Doing the same thing over and over
but expecting new results to flock to us like birds to an old carcass
The "sane" are what's "in"
a world of breached asylum
And the warden, the guards, are never seen but we worship them nonetheless, calling it faith
Believing it what we cannot see
What are we, collectively...
Humane? Insane?
Just "human," please... it's both.