I remember when I first transcribed this poem and got an angry response from a friend who thought there is more to life than “a ride at an amusement park”; I haven’t deviate more from thinking that way. I feel, as rightly noted my comedian George Carlin, we just think our life is more valuable than that of a chicken to give ourselves euphoria.
Carlin added, “chickens don’t kill themselves for fun.” And to the poetry itself:
Life is like a ride at an amusement park,
And as we go on it, we think it’s real.
That’s how powerful our minds work.
And this ride goes up and down, round and round, in it’s many brightening colors,
And it’s loud and much fun,
For a while…
Some have been on the ride for a long time they begin to question,
“Is this real?”
“Or is this just a ride?”
And others see through it and come back to tell us:
“Hey! Don’t worry, you won’t be on it long,
‘Cause it’s just a ride.”
And we kill those people.
“Shut him up!
I got a lot invested in this ride!
Shut him Up!
It’s my turn of wheels,
Look at my bank account, my family,
This has to be real!”
It’s just a ride.
We kill those good guys who try to tell us that.
But it really doesn’t matter,
‘Cause it’s just a ride.
And we can change anytime we want,
It all in the choice,
No effort, no work, no job, no savings, no money,
Just a choice right now…
Between Fear, and …