The actors change, the play remains the same:
The story undulates beneath our hands.
A well-worn narrative. The shifting sands
Of circumstance that writhe. Forget my name!
I am but archetype - a mighty claim
From one who knows this life was never planned,
Who snaps the threads of fate, who severs strands
Of duty with my mind's destructive flame.
For we've been taught to envy and despise,
Instead of celebrating all we are.
We find the face of greed in every guise,
Our lungs are blocked by jealousy's black tar.
We'll download all experience for free.
We will not take responsibility.
LM
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