Sunday, November 16, 2008


He was an only child
In the year of Big Brother

He hadn’t heard of Orwell
He hadn’t seen the Apple Mac
He couldn’t articulate his feelings
In nineteen eighty four

He thought the world
Was just an orange
He thought his voice
Was something new
He thought of nothing
That didn’t interest him
In nineteen eighty four

He spoke in tongues
Which no one could decipher
He thought of things
No one had thought before
But no one questioned
His conclusions
Throughout nineteen eighty four

He took first steps towards
The greatness that awaited
Sometimes he stumbled
But no one seemed to care
There were no rules
There were no expectations
(There were only possibilities
And restful sleep)
In nineteen eighty four

1 comment:

hopscotch said...

But did he grow up to (double)speak and (news)think?
1984...hmmm... Still, not that bad a year to get born in...right?