No freedom in oppression
Why, why, it’s now or never,
The fear is, it may be never ever,
Such thoughts. Meditate! perhaps I ought,
For an answer did sought,
Why this is or that and so on,
Somehow what’s left but to carry on?
Life it seems like nothing no more
Than a term, an eternal hour after hour,
This imbalance forever in one’s life,
A life sentence for a life that’s mine
Not so for some, it’s true perhaps,
Lying in bed, looking skywards,
Many a thought crowds my mind,
Need to write, I must, but instead I wind,
I have to… not written now for some while,
A poem, arises, but dies with no recall,
Too late again, not written even a lousy tripe,
Not a rhyme, or one noteworthy gripe,
Getting out of the bed seems so hard,
Need something to write, but where's that damn card,
Before these thoughts waste away and decline
Once again, never to rise again, in a ordered line.
A day or two later recalling none,
No memory not at all, of any such one
It’s the end ….nothing just Memories alone
Reminiscent of a time gone……
Youthful, with hope in my heart like a newborn
It’s another time, that’s now gone.
Oppression bears neither freedom nor a joyous song.
Like a flightless bird, just awaiting a final gong,
Survival till the end calls…. …of a life which is mine,
For what I ask again and again throughout time,
The status quo, is no match for an only one,
It’s survival, that wins this, hands down.
Filing a base task? an intellectual activity? so learn I must,
She, this first line manager, must this degree achieve fast
Ruthlessly practicing and testing to show for pleasure,
Thus so oppressing a powerless and lowly creature.
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