The Flyboys sang
Of an artificial energy
That left them high
And dry.
The FDA and NIH once lauded
Artificial sweeteners
And downplayed
Their side effects
Just as their owners do today.
7-Elevens and their clones
Stock their chill cabinets
With Monsters and Bulls
To augment coffee's natural highs
As drivers cruise
On double speed.
Plastic surgeons promise
Paradise
As they nip and tuck
But often
Their advertising campaigns
Yield unhealthy results.
So too artificial "friendships"
Open us up to calamities
We never knew existed
Where lives get twisted
And hearts broken
As words never spoken
Enjoin our souls
To the true nature
Of betrayal.
And yet we all too often
Want the sugar high
That fades
Even degrades
While the pure and natural
Seems mundane,
Insane.
I mean, how dare we
Walk through dark valleys
Looking for the guiding light?
Trust in a promise too good
To be politically true?
If only we can believe,
We are destined to receive
The daily signposts
Placed by some hole-y ghost
That lead us to a life so new.
Take us out of the black
And into the blue.
With thanks to Darwin from 2149 the Aftermath.
