Picture

I see you
Printed on a page
Like a face with out a soul
Like a body without veins

I hear you
Preaching to the mindless
You stand up on your soapbox
Like a queen without a throne
It's you who will cast the first stone

You are a paper person
Nothing else but origami
You have nothing to teach me
Nothing to show me
Everything to prove

Who are you staring back at me?
Do you think that you are free?
Imprisoned on the page
Incapable of change
Incapable of freedom

You say we are victims of our choices
You say we're born into slavery
You tell us of our bondage
But all these things are products of
Your recycled paper mind

You tell of unimportant things
Of how the birds no longer sing
Of how things might have been
Of the carelessness of childhood

You've stripped us of that right
You've taken away our freedoms
You mock us from your place
At the head of the new

You speak to us of the future
Of the time of flying cars
Of expansion and commerce
You preach the end of evil
While you look down upon the people

And yet you're just writing on a page
An expression of God's inner rage
You're just a paper person
Incapable of feeling

You take us from our emotions
You take our right to speak
You tell us it's for our safety
You lying spot of ink

You tell me of my life
You speak to me of dreams
You tell me of her sorrow
You tell me of her screams

But then what truth can your words hold
For they're printed out in bold
On a lying piece of paper
A dirty piece of paper

You are a paper person
Printed out in ink
You are a picture of our hate
Just a picture of our ignorance

You know not of our lives
You think not of our interests
You are the selfless person
Yet you forget about the rest of us

And I sit here writing to you
You are your paper deeds
And all that I can say
I hold them in high esteem

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