I stare forward,

With my own personal feelings of dread,

At the bald faced lying man,

That goes by the name of reality.

And he laughs,

A cheerfully sinister kind of laugh,

As he tells us we are own person,

That we have nothing to fear if we embrace the strangeness of society,

And we will believe,

Start acting in our own outlandish ways,

Treating the world like a blank canvas,

And we can color it in anyway we could possibly choose.

Continuing on like this,

Until we've done something that they do not approve,

Make one choice that is outside the invisible guidelines,

And they fall upon us with rules the opposite of which we have learned.

Saying we must act in a certain way,

And the individuality we have strived to create was just a passing game.

Dropping us into a place we do not recognize,

Treading lightly as to not disturb the borders of this new world.

A few will test the waters,

Find the loopholes in the way everything has been laid out.

While some will lock upon these rules and turn away,

Seeing no reason to flock with that mindless herd.

And the bald faced man will laugh,

For while he not claimed victory he still has won.

Fore, beside the fact some are free of him,

There are still far too many under his influence.

Far to many stuck in a world of sweat, blood and screaming,

And the constant changing on ideals of what they expect,

And the hypocritical views torwards those who did not rise to them.

Making them mindless zombies of this 'reality',

Slowly bleeding the color from the canvas,

Until it is blank once again.