In a crowd
Stationed to believe a certain way
Drowned out by the tumultuous sounds
Of thoughts daring you to go against the grain.
At the solemn hands of beasts
You’re forced to assimilate
To their methodology, orthodox, and amazing feats
You’re forced to emulate.
You attempt to object
But you find you’re instantly chastised or ignored
Hushed into submission that demands respect
Learning to love a system that you simultaneously abhor.
So what do you do?
Buried between a rock and a hard place
Fighting, trying to figure out what is true
Before your breath stops short and you suffocate.
Society says this is it
And there is no other path
A resounding voice inside of you refuses this ignorant bliss
To rebel is a choice, but so great is the aftermath.
There are so many amongst us
Standing in this crowd
Visibly hidden while we’re choking on the sawdust
Of the places of refuge they’re building for those of us who want out.
They are the remnant
Panting with the cries of rebellion
They are the misfits, secure in their insolence
Against this society wrought by hellions.
Where do I stand,
And where do I fit?
A decision that will be laden with reprimands
Inevitable from either side, so obvious.
This jagged line
Broken thoughts at their finest hour
Will I choose to rebel and fly,
Or stay grounded in a corner of this crowd, always safe to cower?
© 2012, The Scribe’s Heart Publishing