Dismantle. Rearrange. Clone. Process Complete.

This valley, full of the people I once knew.
Rustic and decaying now disassemble the bodies too.
Take the parts worth saving, donate them to a better prospect.
Don’t worry my friends we’ll sow up the holes in respect.
It’s not completely barbaric, in a manner of speaking just uncivilized.
Not cannibalism nothing so foul, just compartmentalized.
“I want your teeth, your eyes, your brain, your liver is good but the hearts all bad.
I want your arm, your tongue, your lungs, your veins are fine why do you look so sad?
If all this is good you shouldn’t look so down,
The world needs pieces not wholes, toss that body into the ground.
Replace his face with a metal sheet,
Reanimate those legs attach the feet!”
“No that doesn’t fit, her face is all wrong,
I want her to look her best when she dances to their song.”
When I closed my eyes last night, memories of you and I,
Flood my mind with saddening tales, the truth is out my life is a lie.
I look like a doll, a production of the masses,
My metallic chest with abs sculpted as if a narcissist.
Who is this man with eyes so dead?
These memories don’t depict what my skin says.
We smashed all the mirrors to discourage thought,
We discourage originality, it’s one less fight to be fought.
“You’ll look like the rest and if by birth you don’t,
We’ll cut and splice here and there, just so you won’t.
I would like you to know you once were adorable,
But then the surgeon got you and now habitual.”
“I tip my hat to you oh masters, you know what’s best,
I give you praise for if it weren’t for you, I’d be original possibly good at chess?
No, no, that won’t do and if my legs won’t hold for running,
Please just swap them out for a pair more flattering!”
Originality we’ve killed you so quickly,
The trend was murdering so we butchered you rather sickly.
Attacked you like a wounded animal,
We slit your throat and beaten you in intervals.
So sorry, you could’ve taught us so much,
Maybe that weakness is okay, but we’d much rather be tough.

Reviews

[DreamWeaver 2154]

Wow. Conformity is a scary thing. I see that in this poem. We take what is different and repace it with wht is the same. That way there is less to explain. It is sad to see our personality die, for without it, we are nothing, soulless, a lie. This slight poetry wasn't intended, but it gets the point across. Brilliant work.