The Ends...

I awoke this morning, early,
With force, and instantly wide awake,
Yet still immersed in my dream.
Where they went beyond numbering us,
To deleting the numbers one by one,
For the good of the sum.
And to my horror,
I could see clearly that they believed.
That they were proud of what they had done.
And they showed me,
As if they were children,
Presenting refrigerator art,
And each life, a watercolor stroke.

With my whole body tense, angry,
I tried to yell,
To scream platitudes that weren't,
Just platitudes.
The ends don't justify the means,
The ends don't justify the means,
The ends don't.
But in my dream,
My mouthed foamed up,
The words would not be spoken,
And I raged and struggled in silence.
Now fully awake,
But still in silence.

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