Political

Behold you slaves to the mundane
You paint with the same notes you hear,
Being safe never touching the pain
Hiding from all the colors you fear.

Give your applause for those who mimic
Same patterns, and paint-by-numbers style,
Praise it as the innovative lyric,
Received with the blandest tired smile. 

You trained your brain to like the same
Formulas archaic, tried and true,
To silence those who change the game
And dare to create the world anew. 

So forgive my dark and reckless ways
To not seek kudos nor applause,
I shall spend my remaining days
Not being a slave to your bland cause.

Settling