Full of self righteous rules.
Your need for conformation
Into perfectly controlled molds
Smothering any original thought.
You scream verses into my ears
Making my head pound and anger flare
But you don't care about that-
Do you?
Constantly beating old proverbs
Into the heads of others.
Brainwashing the unsure,
As if they were children.
Some may believe your words,
I won't fall for it.
But you don't care about that-
Do you?
Beating me up about my lost soul.
Yes I know of the darkest pits of hell.
You may believe my soul is damned,
But I believe this soul has found a purpose.
I won't be controlled or molded.
I will walk my own original path.
Even as it drags my soul into fiery consequence.
But I don't care about that-
Do I?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem