the point

amongst the scrutiny of locked down masses
we put up faces as blank disguises
step up on the platform, the train starts moving
go on, make sure that they're looking, drooling

the feisty fingers, the fake expressions
am I the one to pour out confessions
when there is no one who'll hear them, seal them
and testify to our shelter, striken

for we are stuck here, the faint illusion
an automatic sense of confusion
it feeds on your flesh, down your throat and deeper
you'll like it, the whisper, indulge your ego

think up a reason to stay invested
suck on it, human, fill out the space
all words are symbols, they're artificial
your liberation's your inquisition

try not to choke on the numbing insight
it pushes harder, feels your insides
those make-believe morals, your body brims
they will only get off upon hearing you scream

they will murmur you lies while you're going down
now swallow it whole, not a drip on the tongue
the distraction's deceiving, the point is not real

there is the answer to your little riddle