Another poem relatively quickly here. I was inspired by listening to some protest music on the radio so I decided to make my own kind of protest railing against the trappings of life and what our preconceived notions are. Hope you like the poem.
The life we live is not our own,
For within we are but a drone.
Trapped by bonds we cannot see,
Living a life dictated by majority.
To keep us from being what we can be.
Becomes the work of all authority,
Held in check towards a hollow life,
For happiness and freedom becomes our tithe.
Possibility remains without our grasp,
Our conceptions contained deeply clasp.
The government tells us how to act,
Religious convection's still hold some pact.
Society's laws preconceive our notions,
Wealth and possessions become our sole devotions.
To take a life that the world deems right,
A wife, a job, and the trappings of debt's delight.
It holds us down, never to rise up,
With the belief that life's but a half-filled cup.
It's not to late to dream of chance,
Live a life of one's own circumstance.
Breaking free from all the mundane,
And never face mediocrity so plain.
Not held by what's right or wrong,
To make a place where you belong.
When all of color's but shades of grey,
Create a world of vibrant display.
Shirking free of rules and behavior,
Finding peace as your own savior.
Never trapped by problems you cannot fix,
Or pinned to the worlds selfish crucifix.
Not Gods, nor fate, or worldly desire,
Can give you freedom from this mire.
To achieve all that you require,
Is to change the flames of heart's fire.
Dream to live a life without a border,
For within you create your own order.
End of Line.