A faceless man stares at me

through the screen of a computer

demanding more every time

and every time I say to him

you can not rush art

I understand your reasons

I see your point of view

but I know it's wrong of you

because art is to be felt not thought out

and you only see reason and profit

and I am a patient person

though my social skills are rusty

I lack knowledge of how the world turns

but if I know one thing

I'd rather have few people enjoy

the beauty of a soul inspired piece

than masses of greedy faceless men

sabotaging what is delicate

turning it into yet another

fruit they can squeeze until dry

sour juice all over the place

leaving unpleasant aftertaste

and faint aroma of what could have been

or perhaps what even was a while

a reminder this world is not built

to store and protect and feel

what is to be appreciated and cherished

no emotions or feelings only hard logic

where human understanding is needed

you only find inconsistent reason

and isn't that the saddest thing of all

when you are exploited

and kept around for others' gain

and you don't belong here

no place between machines when you're human

too hard and cold and emotionless

and simply less and less and less

but you don't remember the way home

and no one seems to have the same problem

not to mention having a map

only guided by stars to the start of the universe

the start of everything of you

I wonder what choice will you make

this time around