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