I am vanquished by pressure unseen <br />my lungs are rasped by air unclean <br />and my eyes are bagged <br />by images and magazines obscene <br /> <br />Obsessively I repeat my day <br />the day is obsessive in its repetition <br />obsessively <br />repetitious <br />did I mention my day is like that? <br /> <br />I am held aloft to the stars <br />by those who never look up <br />from the toil of TV’s convenience <br />here I slump too exhausted to protest <br />too proud to prostrate and too foolish <br />to be happy <br /> <br />These systems we have to make us Gods <br />have made us children <br />they look down on us <br />from their giants and laugh <br />as the jolly jackasses beneath <br /> <br />Those beaten by stress <br />Or stressed at the prospect of defeat <br />Come <br />Slump with me <br />On the shoulders of dwarves <br />While we rely on technological wonders <br />And wonder why we have achieved nothing<br /><br />Steve Downes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slumped-on-the-shoulders-of-dwarves/
