Friday, September 20, 2013

Just like heaven

The problem with Utopia? It's such a bloody bore;
A perfect place and people, artificial to the core,
Utopia means nowhere; it was coined from ancient Greek;
It paints a rosy picture of a world no one should seek.

Why rant about Utopia? The place can never change;
It celebrates a static life no one can rearrange.
Imagine: no excitement, nothing novel, always tame,
With each new day like all the rest, not new, but just the same.

The sun is always shining, the good weather never stops,
It only rains when you're asleep, to irrigate the crops;
Every face is smiling, you don't dare to wear a frown,
All married folks are faithful, no one ever plays around.

All the questions have been answered, and every mountain scaled;
The goals of life are in your hand, all problems long derailed,
In Utopia, life is perfect in every single way;
All uncertainty's been banished, and boredom rules the day.

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