Email Poem

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Poem

A Rebels Stance
As we stand talking face to face
Upholding the laws of social grace
You may see me timidly holding my stance
Chained to the bond of my circumstance.

But under charades of fancied beguile
Merrily skips a loose denial
And tearing the ropes encircling me
Is a mind that goes running, running free.

You look at me now and see an acceptance
Of all that’s been told despite an objection
But I am no prisoner of all that conforms
You’re looking at posturing tuned with the norm.

Deep inside this material prison
Defiance dances in passionate rhythm 
Ignoring the shackles binding me
Is a mind that goes running, running free.

Within this mysterious essence 
Disguised in such typical form
Are fields that wildly span the horizon,
And a voice singing on in a storm.

When the land of the self is examined
Its truth is a beauty to see
Neath the dust of its blanketing body
Lies treasure you cannot perceive.

Ignoring the choke that silences my voice
Dances a body with powerful choice
Unmindful of myths you've heard about me
Is a mind that goes running, running free.

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