A small bracelet around the wrist
Your first belonging as eyes disclose
To state who owns you
And which of those giants are yours.
All human beings have parents
But parents are not of all
To each its own.
They take you home.

“Don’t touch that, it’s not yours!”
The first concept unwittingly installed,
In a mind programmed to desire
Properties to which
It will inevitably aspire.

Your teddy is not as nice as that
Of the cool kid down the road.
His parents must love him more
Than yours love you for sure,
Gifts are there to prove it
Smiles are there to show it,
Bragging for you to know it.
He rides a new sparkling tricycle
The trendiest in the neighbourhood.

Your grades are not so good
Yet maths are not your problem,
The pretty girl you like
Sends a note, from hand to hand
She looks and nods
‘It’s not for you,
Pass it on!’
To the cool kid down the row,
Dressed in brands
Showing off the flow
Of all the likes up on his wall.

You got the paper out of Uny
It has your name on it to state
‘You are able to think, on your own.’
Aren’t you?

Properties are coming your way
You got a job, a brand new car,
The beer you bought at the pub
Is yours. The lady came along.
You get married and build a home
Marvellous kids of your own,
You are bothered
The reason you ignore.

Shower them with possessions
Replicate the system
Let them know just how much
You care.

The more you own
The less you feel
You have,
You don’t quite understand.
All you ever wanted was love
All you ever got was pills
Of satisfaction on demand.
Please press enter to escape.

[Featured painting: Composition VII by Wassily Kandinsky, 1913]


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