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Conformity MAG
The dictators
are drowning me
out under their
make-up glory.
Clones of individuality,
making me afraid
to speak my mind,
to break out of the strait-jacket
they've laced so tight.
Can't breathe, can't think
beyond their superficial
rules for ...
Happiness?
But I've never
been good
at following rules.
I refuse to be
molded into
some pretty little toy
that everyone has,
stuffed in their
pockets.
I'll slip from under
their giant's foot
and climb up
the beanstalk
so I can dwell
in the clouds.
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This article has 1 comment.
Naomi.F. said...
on Nov. 27 2008 at 7:37 am
I really liked this poem. It gave a good sense of entrapment and then freedom. You really have talent Julie!
