when we decide the form of punishment we are greted   with fists in the air   (a bright future ahead of you) "you'll do us proud"   forgetting the dismissals of the faces in the crowd   the signs are there and we appear with open hands   prescriptions for us all what has gone wrong   now is just gone, with a new symptom developing   and we'll treat all these symptoms one by one a pill for every flaw   we can't all be different anymore thre'd be too much to focus on (please note sarcasm)   we'd rather be as secure as can be as long as we're within the confines of the daily meds   passing through these days with bloodshot eyes in hopes to achieve a normal life   never realizing that when we swallow it down we're taking a number   and sitting, and waiting. the numbers called....time is up   the skin finally has a chance to catch up to the corpse inside that altered skull