The Cull

They will sanitize us yet
make us bland, docile
eggs waiting to be broken
thrown away.

All our colour will be drained
monochromed
our chromosomes subdued
to factors on a page
small blocks of life
reduced to duplicity
whereby we are all
quietly
made the same.

So imagination falters
and ideas dim 
until strangled before birth
our race stops still
its lifeforce latent
cleansed and unreformed
the scientists win.
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