August 6, 2011
More by this author
Rewrite the routine,
It leaves a soul black and blue.
Freedom’s bursting at the seam,
Routine is gum stuck to a shoe.

I still cringe at my passing,
How I was eaten up whole
by the clock I heard ticking

till it gained all control.

I ran with one broken wing,
Gasping for each foreign breath.
I dispatched the itching sting

soon it was all I had left.

The plan sticks in the throat,
All you can speak is your own name.
You weren’t born an abstract painting

to slide beneath a silver frame.

Leaving harbor any minute,
You’ve been restless since birth
So set sail off the edge of your make-believe earth.

Before you step toward the light,
Sharpen up your mind and knife.
Carve a brand new etching

on a predictable life.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

HollyGo said...
Aug. 15, 2011 at 11:13 am
This poem reflects the compulsion to over schedule and over burden the youth of today - foising early development, advanved learning and fierce competition upon the under-18 set, also known as the Race to Nowhere. This writer expresses this with elegant tools and great aplomb. The best I've seen on this site in a long time!
Sydney B. replied...
Aug. 15, 2011 at 12:12 pm
Thank you! that is such great feedback it made my day!
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