The Big Picture

How many sentences have they even written…..
About mandatory minimum sentences at these for profit prisons,
Not one word, not even a single whisper,
About the parts of capitalism that might make us quiver,
Instead we will wear our flags like a sundress,
Distractions red, white, orange, and blue,
Russia and the FBI’s head,
And all of that shit is inconsequential,
They just report on it so you don’t see the big picture.

See you can’t decipher the meaning of a painting if they cut out your eyes,
You can’t have eyes to see if the art they are painting is a lie,
So instead the big picture is out of your sight,
But it greases the wheels of history,
And history is escaping down the road of no consequence,
It will repeat itself eventually,
We will never realize its nonsense.

The big picture,
Is more black and white then you could ever possibly think,
Filled with black bars,
Built by pearly white teeth,
The big picture,
Has some green thrown in,
The ones that profit off it all,
Like Jeff Sessions.

But all I am is a collection of noise,
A bird in a cage, with societally manufactured voids,
I want to fly away and I want to crawl out,
Yet I want to be locked away at the same time,
I never want to come out.

And I know that a bigger picture exists,
But when I think about it,
It paralyzes me,
Strangles me and ties up my legs,
Throws water on me until I say that their truth is the big picture,
That their truth is the right way….

So I don’t speak of the big picture,
In fear that it may make me quiver,
Or even worst I will be tortured into believing it doesn’t exist,
Oh the truth is whatever sells the easiest.
The truth is whatever sells the easiest.

So I’ll fill myself with quarters,
My heartbeat is a billboard on a city street,
So I’ll fill myself with quarters,
The heart on my sleeve is in the shape of a wall and an closed border,
So I’ll fill myself with quarters,
The thoughts in my head tell me my thoughts of order are just my disorder,
So I’ll fill myself with quarters,
Hope the quarters let me out of my cage,
Then instantly put the quarter back in,
I want to be locked away.

Knowing they lock away,
Anyone who is poor and descends from a slave,
Just to get labor for free,
Don’t tell me the entire world isn’t an economy,
Don’t tell me we aren’t all just points on the NASDAQ,
Don’t tell me that isn’t what the big picture is,
Don’t tell me we exist for ourselves,
We exist for someone’s profit.

But still they build empires for five cents an hour,
And their children do the same,
And when they take the streets,
We blame the lack of structure we took away,
And history is still running away,
Repeating the same fucking refrain,
It will circle back eventually,
But what does it matter if it retains it invisibility.

Maybe one day it will go off a cliff,
And in the rubble of its dead body,
We will discover our conscience,
Maybe we will find the big picture it held onto like papyrus or gold,
Maybe we will realize the sickening truth of that painting,
Anything can be sold.

I know that’s wishful thinking,
Sometimes I think my mind is just a wishing well,
So I’ll fill it with distractions and quarters,
Hope that somehow avoiding the big picture will make this well,
Bask in the fact that I have the privilege of pretending the picture doesn’t exist,
That I’m not quivering and suffocating beneath it.

So how many sentences have been spoken,
About mandatory minimum sentences and a system so broken,
Not one will be spoken and not one will ever be,
But in the background history is screaming; frantically humming,
They tie her up and lock her away,
Sentence her with the slaves,
The big picture covers history and then all,
Sends them to an early grave.

There’s no morality in this all,
Don’t tell me it isn’t all for profit,
They are all criminals,
They all just want to deepen their pockets,

The big picture is,
Everything that exist is manufactured,
For their profit.

Never utter a sentence,
About any of these sentences,
Just maximize profit,
Create scandal for convenience.

History falls off a cliff,
Falls into the water underneath a burning bridge,
A big picture always trapped in a sea,
The paint splattered like oil in the ocean,
It’s too much pain to put together,
Just let it drown,
Just let me sleep.



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