Dystopia

What is reality?
What is this world we live in- who is to say that we do not see falsities, while believing what we see are realities.
Who's to say that we, man-kind, are not the prisoners in the cave of the Republic?
Merely shadows pass by- gracing our views, tainting our minds in our sour reality.
Distorted shapes and echoing sounds are all we know- we were born into it.
Only few and far between can open their minds to be their eyes;
they are the chosen ones-
to see, hear, smell
Taste.
It is a realm that we cannot comprehend, you cannot.
Programmed into our lives, brains, hearts- thoughts.
You do not think freely, majority of us don't.
We are simply parts in this ongoing machine of rage, war and hate.
Politics are the puppeteers-we are their marionettes.
Beautifully dancing, singing, strings flowing and ordering us in each and every way we go.
Broken little movements
So beautiful in our eyes
In this dystopia that we constantly embrace, and fail to challenge.