Poetry – So they tell me

So they tell me

They tell me that I have a place,

It’s set out just for me.

But I do not like the place I’m set,

I do not want to walk that path,

To talk that speech,

Or strain my brain to forget.

Around me they have created rules

Set parameters

To control us fools,

And we are expected to play the game

Within the bounds

That keep it the same.

The real players are the Kings and Queens,

Robbers and callous thugs.

We as pawns are merely

Tiresome bugs.

They use us like they use

A bothersome, worthless tool.

We exist as a means to an end

Worth no more than a shrug

Or nothing at all.

Within this game we have to make the grade

Cut off from the natural way,

As a cog within the machine

I turn to create wealth

And take my pay.

I’m bought and sold

Used and discarded

Bled dry, controlled

And disregarded.

There’s no way out.

We’re in the game,

Caught in the web.

The more we struggle

The tighter the knots –

One more trapped pleb.

It is self-perpetuating

Designed to build our own cage.

Any rebellion causes mirth

As they incorporate our rage.

Opher 2.9.2015

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