"Perspective" by Eric Wayne Flynn
A black man in a green shirt rides by me on a bike
I lay back in a truck
The thought hits me
Where is he going?
What is he doing?
Why is he doing it?
Why am I laying back in a truck instead of swimming in Cancun?
Look at me, always questioning
Never just being
Flawed n flawless
A roller coaster of monotony
Everyone is trying to get off
Can you smell the taste of a sound touching what you can't see?
Five sensations for the slaves
Messages coded via cents and senses
On and for emotions
We weep for our loss
Of true identity
Trapped in the mind's of killers
Prisoners of perspective, told and sold the word
A creation to keep us captive
A gift given
An empty box with pretty paper and a bow