Stupid Rules

Stupid bureaucracy

Stupid rules

Making mincemeat

Out of jewels

My voice cries

My voice sings

It’s not their place

Mixing into my things!

My words reflect

My pen spills the pain

My ideas, cracked shatter shells

My messed up life...

Massed misery deafens..

Clenched fists!

Eyes teary.

I hit the WALL!

Done with marching lines

Tired of emotional trip wires

Alone and caged remains

Burning pages

Upon funeral fires.

Reviews

[Admiral Kirk]

O_O ... Just O_O
In other words, or rather, in words, this poem is really powerful. REALLY powerful. Just like... powerful... So, those stupid rules, squishing shining stars and making them into meat... The rules are too tight, they hold down even those with promise.

So now you're trying to stand up against these rules, perhaps partly by birthing this poem. You're quietly screaming at the rules to go away because they're stopping you from being happy...

Yes, quite. Your pen is reflecting your feelings on rules quite nicely. I take it you don't like them.

And this is where I go O_O ... I don't know what's up with this stanza, it's really powerful... Makes me imagine... lots of stuff... powerful imagery... Nicely done...

[Wolfwind]

Thanks! I wrote this a long time ago, probably three years ago infact or more. lol I don't even remember what it was that I was raging against at the time. Such as is with time... it flies like the wind leaving only traces of memory. Thanks for reading! =)

[Admiral Kirk]

Haha, yeah... Sometimes I wonder about myself too... You're welcome!