Toss Poem by John Prophet

Toss.
Deep end.
No choice.
All in.
Head
over
heels.
Eyes
open,
journey
begins.
Entrance
unique.
Accident
of birth,
genetics.
Generations
in the
making.
Generation
after
generation
hitting the
mark.
Molding,
indoctrination.
Veils layered,
covering
senses.
Clarity
denied.
Tribal.
Competing
realities.
System
looped.
Closed.
Finale
results
sculpted.
Years
of input.
Original
thought
scarce.
Repeating
ancient
lore.
Little
changed.
Such is
the state
of things.