Undercover

There are two ways to survive.

Beat the system...or be absorbed by it. Absolutely consumed by it. Implanted dreams fed through the umbilical cord it's up to you to cut.

You've been named, shamed and maimed. Life cut off at the knees...unless they've put you in dungarees. There's always shit to shovel. Fall for it, and they'll have you believing you can keep up with the pile AND feed your children.

Some, swallow it willingly, existing on a steady diet of affirmations and gold stars. Exchanging soul for sustenance. Baseline nutrition supported by the backs of those shoveling the shit.

The wise ones, those awake, have recognized their ways. Adapted, building walls around what matters, defenses against the gluttonous, barriers so strong the backstabbers don't matter and the disbelievers get lost. They don costumes of conformity yet celebrate themselves, recognizing flying under the radar is more than just cliche. 

This beast that devours without discretion will surely swallow it's own tail...the most painful death, starts from within.

Natasha Head