I’m that rebel

I was criticised,
For not being regular.
Chided for being inconsistent.
With learning, With workout, With people.

Shouldn’t the willingness emerge,
From the free will to do,
To acquire, to apply,
Rather than coerced?

Standing with my feet,
Pressed on the ground,
I feel the gravity underneath my soles.
The depression in the leather of my shoes,
Is deeper than what it was;
Five years ago.

I have been growing flesh,
Around my timid bones,
Its thickness pound by pound,
Proves my tenacity to lead,
To drag all of it,
To my favourite occasions.

I don’t dodge invitations by pricks.
I still play the clown at crowded places,
So they feel thankful for not being me.
On my own stride I’m impossible.

I’m that rebel;
Which conbentional societies,
Fear to face.
They don’t know how to deal.

Posted from WordPress for Android


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