scuttle with me, perhaps we'll find something to devote ourselves to

[pseudoslattern]

so we're caught in this web
without the scissor necessary
for escape

so we're caught, just a little bit
caught, not really trapped, more like stuck
and we're without the crucial tools necessary
to manage an escape

so this kind of sucks
being stuck on this channel of re-runs
completely aware of the inevitable ending

are we, is this...worth the applause?

like robots, maybe even clones
they'll roar in unison
declaring their devotion to our art
and here we are
caught, in this web

perhaps, after our valiant effort
we'll scuttle across the desert
and paddle across the sea
claim our own island and allow the memories
-of being caught-
to drift into the sunset, glistening beneath the sun's amber rays

until then, however
we're kind of caught
more like stuck
in this web where nothing changes
and amongst the faces
that never smile.