Means To An End

To what purpose do i serve?
To what goal do i fight?
To what life do i tire for?
To what job do i work for?
To what tragedy do i live in fear of?
To what can i say
I am not a man, but an evolved form of it.
I do not think as does normal man
I do not speak as does normal man
I do not act as does normal man
Is this a torture?
For life itself is pointless
you strive for goals that are but a pitance
when we reach those goals you do not find them as you like them
seldom do you love
often do you hate
time and time you whine
you are upset by the simplest of things
when you do not get your way you complain that it hurts
that it hurts your children
that, though we dont think so, it hurts us
that you know what is best for us
but to what purpose do we serve?
we are better
we have a purpose
one that you do not choose for us
our purpose
as it seems
is to be better
but now that we are better
you hide your growing fear of us
and tell us that you know what is best
we are the next generation
we know whats best for us
not a government agency
not a catholic priest
but us
we are ourselves
some of us have been tricked into thinking that they are the same
but those of us who are smart know better
you cant trick us
we
as it seems
are the means to your end