Lost
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Description:
Lost
I am what you see Nothing more and nothing less. I’m not your puppet, Your source of entertainment. I am not your bee To work at your pace To do as you say and please Only for you to take all the credit. I’m not your monkey, To sit and look good for others to view. I’m not something you own I don’t belong in a locked cage Or ogled or pointed at by the ignorant. Nor am I rabid or off kilter, So what are the extra eyes for? I have been nothing but cooperative, I have been kind, I have been funny, I have been compassionate, I have been attentive, So what is the point of watching me? I have nothing up my sleeve. One mistake and I have no credibility. A mistake which was not my fault. I was unable to do things my way, The way that would be easiest, The way which would work best. So when things go wrong it’s my fault Even when I have what seems to be an attachment A growth coming out of my shoulder, Hovering over me, watching my every move, Telling me I have do it this way To listen to what I’m told. So I listen. I be the worker bee you want me to be. Punch in the numbers , Be the trained monkey you asked for. So why is it when the numbers are wrong, It is my fault instead of the teacher? The one who was looking at my work, Guiding me through the process you wanted When I wanted something else? Why am I in the wrong here When I only did exactly what I was told? Confused and frustrated I hold my tongue. The animals don’t fight with the trainers. Those who fight become air, Disappearing within the confines of the establishment, Never to be heard from again. Never to be seen again. You had your chance to shine, To be the one in the cage, The one the passersby point at And stare at in amusement. You had your chance to prove yourself To be the one worthy of praise, Even if you are controlled. You spoke up and lost your spotlight, Lost the comfort and plush that came with it. Lost your individuality, lost yourself. Day in and day out, the same old shit. Stuck behind a desk instead of on a pedestal In a different sort of zoo. Just another drone in the hive, Working my way towards another paycheck. The days and weeks stretch on, Soon they all start to blend together. I lose myself again. |
Submitted on 2015-01-12 11:49:40 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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| This certainly sticks it to the man. Reminiscent of Paul Lafarge and Karl Marx whose ideas highlighted the plight of the proletariat. Yet there is also a wilful longing for more than liberty from the machine. The daily grind has become unbearable by the closing remarks as the 'I have been' anaphora verse begins the diatribe of forlorn paper pursuit, the last two verses take this idea to the extreme of tedium. A work hen night is well overdue it seems. | Posted on 2015-02-09 00:00:00 | by ContritePoet38 | [ Reply to This ] | It's more of a diary entry or a sad conversation in the mirror than a poem. Try a different medium | | Posted on 2015-02-03 00:00:00 | by trolllll | [ Reply to This ] | i like it. it's clear in it's statement.. i think it's more like prose structured as poetry. but i'm not too specific on what is classified as poetry. it's about losing ones self to someone else or someone else and you capture the process clearly. don't worry about poetotoe, he's a dick to everyone. can't see the world past the trees in his own eyes. but anyways. yeah the only thing i stumbled on is this part. | You spoke up and lost your spotlight, Lost the comfort and plush that came with it. Lost your individuality, lost yourself. i guess this person liked that attention of being controlled? it happens but that's all i can gather from these words. elsewise it was crystal clear. | Posted on 2015-01-18 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] | junk draw | | Posted on 2015-01-15 00:00:00 | by poetotoe | [ Reply to This ] | |
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