A Painting of Mice

Individual and one
Scurrying through each day
We smelled cheese here before
But we settle for crumbs
Hoarding any extra for another meal
The machines have eyes
Yes, we are alive
Can we look on it and think it beautiful?
The color of our skin doesn’t change the hues of the canvas
Can’t we stop buying in to this lie?
The enemy is nowhere in sight
Spread love, heal wounds
The machines have nerves
Yes, we are alive

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