I walk through life mindlessly,
I am asked to participate,
In what I reply?
This plastic society?
The fake smile that greets my eye,
Pains me to almost die,
This is not participation,
This is falsification.
Who are you, what are you?
Are you hiding inside?
Can you walk, can you speak, can you think,
without another by your side?
To learn and to grow is the goal,
but how can we grow in this goal with limits.
Who is to say that I cannot pray,
In this establishment meant for growth.
To learn, to love, to honor, in God.
We learn and grown with this prayer,
Which is hindered by the indefinite social rule.
Where is the ruler? Why cannot he speak?
Are we humans or are we beings?
Humans in the sense of life.
Beings in the sense of the soul.
Which to follow?
The human, the plastic society,
Is created in falsification.
But listen close, listen hard,
The immaculate beauty of the soul, it speaks only to those who listen.
Listen to the whisper,
The whisper inside that makes it alright.
The whisper quieted by society,
This plastic falsified society.
