We are the future-kind.
Food pellets and flying conveyances.
Contact lenses that let us see far.
Streets of glass, instead of tar.
A solar moped instead of a car.
There's a Prime Minister of time, a czar.
We've stopped laughing decades ago. Obsolete.
No ID chips under the skin, nor ID cards.
Mass data remains stored in the remains of Utah.
A choice made and a direction traveled. Our past
A chaotic reflection of a future without stars.
We are what's left of a people without choice,
Without bodies, without eyes,
Without the ability to tell lies.
Military doesn't exist but the world police grinds
For experience at the very cost of
Those bodies, those eyes
That ability to tell lies.
We are the future-kind, and no place is good.
There is no need for places.
Brains and signals locked in a jar,
Interfaced, interlaced, with a world without solids.
Nanofibers, graced into the glass streets, memories of lies.
No sweat, no pain, no ego, no shame.
No mates, no game, no path to blame
But your own. Individuality for the future-kind
Is on the wall framed.
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