Mother hens with calming voices,

smother you with mainstream choices,

bare yourself and share your vices,

let them tear your soul to pieces.


Shave your hair off, look like Kojak,

drink the coolaid, take the Prozac,

get a job and get a tie rack,

Kansas City shuffle hijack.


Don’t make trouble, that’s for losers,

negative bad vibe abusers,

get your head right, get to Pfizers,

join the flock and share the prizes.


When your gut screams doubts unspoken,

they’ll insist your mind is broken,

blind to values they’ve foresaken,

they’re asleep but you’ve awakened.




2 thoughts on “Coolaid

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