A Cure For Poetry And The Curse Of Individualism Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

The Mind Police came yesterday,
They kidnapped my friend and took him away,
Our house was untidy, the floor could have been cleaner,
And now he's been charged with schizophrenia.

Omitting the housework's a serious crime
As a Social Worker told me time after time -
If you want to get by you've got to conform,
Abide by the rules, fit in with the norm.

Don't talk about 'freedom' - there's no such thing,
The birds are conditioned, that's why they sing!
Writing of poetry's strictly forbidden
And if you've got talent, better keep it hidden.

I heard of a guy who had stange ideas,
(He said that good music moved him to tears!)
His home was a mess and a little bit smelly,
So I prescribed him a brand new telly.

The cure for neurosis is watching T.V.
You've got to be 'normal' if you want to stay free,
There's no room for outsiders with funny ideas -
Go down to the pub and have a few beers.

Fit in with the crowd, we're all just the same,
There's no other way so join in the game,
If you try to be different you'll get in a mess
(And if you're a rebel it's time to confess!)

This is the Age of Mind Control,
Give thanks for your Body, 'cos you ain't got a Soul! !