I seek out the people,
The hoards, the masses, the mobs,
Who fill the earth with their cries and sobs,
Spending their lives earning a keep from doing odd jobs,
Exploited and ridiculed by a few fortunate snobs.
I seek out the people,
The mothers, the fathers, the children,
Grown accustomed to the sound of a siren,
Yet find all they need to live in places branded barren,
The unlearned, who somehow better understand that we are all brethren.
I seek out the people,
The rich, the poor, the in between,
Whose lives depend on how much time they spend in front of a screen,
Being programmed by what they have seen
By some puppeteer you would see if only you were keen.
I seek out the people,
The followers, the initiators, the subjects,
Who forgot themselves and became objects,
In fear, those we call rejects,
For not doing what the majority expects.
I seek out the people,
The leaders, the fans, the teachers,
Who told the truth and were the brokers,
Of understanding and not just careers,
And showed us the power to change our lives does not rest in makeovers.
I seek out the people,
The simple people, the real people, the people,
Who live lives based on honest principle,
Who truly embody the temple,
Who stand towering in a world where the majority is as the ‘will not’ cripple.
AmarePoeta
Outside my mind 