Will (a poem)
How hard must I run, to and fro,
How far the distance am I to go,
For rewards I want, do what I'm told,
Is this my will, or a puppet show?
Is this grueling chase my intention,
Or a demand of others invention?
Expectation of outer configuration,
Structured by social congregation.
Please and appease, authority trust,
Smile, submit, loyalty worn on cuffs,
Accept labels, truths carefully bent,
Bow to the masters, until they relent.
Will chaos of order shake me to dust?
Can I spin away, with a smile, as I must?
Pray, I am more than dirt and water for clay,
But if to be molded, it will be my way.