Poetry from yesteryear
This I wrote in the heady days of Grade 12, a time that teeters on the boundary between the real world and juvenile academia. I dug it up while browsing through old work. I think it might be time to restore the prose/poetry balance.
Life: The Choice
commit yourself
to institutions
to women and statesmen, money and ideals
bow to nations, constitutions
submit, and give what is demanded
give your days to man’s creation
wring out the bills
to suit your nation
be ill at ease
for you have forsaken
that which breathes your heart to awaken
sleep at night with knowledge sure
that once your days lived fully were
your days are lifeless, but for a cat’s purr
you have forgotten
that which is pure
Go! and leave me
for your heart’s devices
wander not my fields so free
spend your days in man’s good vices
far away from cloud and tree
for you cannot
abandon me
