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Declared it illegal they did.
Told him life was not his.
Informed him that his choices were plotted,
That free will had ceased to exist.
Disagree he might, but in the end
Citizen #4015-876B
Moves at the whim of those around him.
He might be humanoid for the freedom given him.

He labors nine to five
Never knowing, never caring
That it was chosen for him.
Someone else decided he would pump gas
And sell cigarettes.

Living mundanely day to day,
His every move decided by
TV, the Man and some other, higher power.
Continuously toiling for what he thinks is utopia,
Or at the very least,
A comfortable existence with his sports and beer.

Laboring through an alcoholic haze
His hands pound time to the latest pseudo-rock
Or maybe his heart, one can't tell which.

Eating fat-free chips and saying he'll start a diet
He struggles through the pap shoveled upon him
Never recognizing the subliminal crawl.

Screaming "Domo Arrigato" and Viva la Revolucion
I proved indeed,
I am Modern Man.

Learn more about this author, Merrell.
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