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Stuck MAG
Indifferently pouring, an array of rain
Falling on the glassy panes
Of windows to a jagged place
Where every person, behind every face
Cannot help but feel cliché
When it's all been done the very same way
A place where each straight line lines up the same
In a twisted repetition game
Where every soul marches as directed
And soon the whole universe is infected
With disease of broken record minds,
With only self-inflicted chains to bind
So we wait for you, rain, to use your wrath
To rid us of this destruction path
Wash away, used-up revolutions
And timelessly unquestioned institutions
Make it all new, a fresh world stage
Where all we citizens will engage
To marvel at the leveled playing field
With unity and youth as our weapons to wield.
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