Schemata
These are not greater than us.
These are not indestructible.
These are not absolute.
We are laws unto ourselves,
our own direction; our own discretion,
and we govern here.
Yet we abdicate,
allowing what is ruinous;
encouraging what is destructive,
and this is our preference.
Overthrown by our schemata
we coexist with our hostages,
imprisoned by these;
surrendering to them.
And there is comfort here.
It's familiar; it's what we know.
There's no need to adapt
because there is no change.
And though we have thoughts of more,
we know these are only thoughts,
because we cringe at the necessary depth
of the place we must begin
to achieve the extraordinary.
So here we are creating laws,
consulting our conditioning,
intimidated by it;
blaming it.
We are our own jury,
our own disruption; our own destruction,
and we are helpless.
We are victims of our own undoing
because this is what we choose.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
