The Serf Poem by Steven SRS

Steven SRS

Oakland California

The Serf

 


I am a serf,
Weakest in the Land of Not.
I am a slave to all,
From the lowest serpent
To the loftiest dream.

I am a serf.
I and my kind stand like men,
But oft this is only an illusion.
Because we stand not together,
We stand not at all.

I am a serf.
I live blind, def, and dumb;
In ignorance and fear of the truth.
Not because I can't,
But because I won't have it any other way.

I am a serf,
Redeemable only because
I'm all that there is.
But for only as long,
As I'm all that there is.

I am a serf,
I and my kind are producers.
All things made,
Great and small,
Come from my ranks.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kasey Graham 26 June 2010

The tone here is unusual when compared to your other work. Not completely negative, or sad; and there's a hint of pride there. The remnants linger and feels like confidence and self-assurance, hiding in self-effacing acceptance of such a status.

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Steven SRS

Oakland California
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