Unmasking the Script
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Ever feel like you're living a life pre-scripted by society and family? Existentialists would say that's exactly the trap we fall into. In this poem, we explore that feeling of inauthenticity through the lens of existentialist thought.
Imagine existence as a giant play. We're handed costumes (societal expectations) and lines (predetermined roles), but what if we crave something more? This existential poem delves into the human condition, questioning life's meaning, freedom's burden, and the possibility of carving our own path in an absurd world.
An existentialist might ask, is there an inherent meaning to life, or do we create it ourselves? Join me on this introspective journey on existentialism as we explore the themes of isolation, self-discovery, and the responsibility of forging our identities.
Warmest Regards.
Daniel
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In borrowed plumes, a masquerade we stage,
Thoughts echo doctrines, passions preordained.
From broken families, where fractured spirits weep,
Mothers of sorrow,
With eyes that never sleep.
We inherit canvases, pre-primed with societal skews,
But the brush trembles in our hand,
Praying for a different muse.
Contentment's suffocating embrace chokes every…
Rebellious spark, a shroud woven from societal expectations.
Desires' siren song, a future yet undisturbed.
What once a dream, now tarnished by compare,
Euphoria fades on envy's poisoned air.
A lone chick's chirp pierces the suffocating silence,
A desperate plea for authenticity in a world of conformity.
Ignorance surrenders to the nascent street
A mentor's hand, an infant’s heart takes flight,
But knowledge is budding,
Not just in halls of stone.
Misunderstood, an invisible amidst of storm,
No matter how loud I yell,
My words are lost to the wind.
For Words twist and turn;
Their essence holds no form.
Reason's firm hand against the senses' fancy,
A stoic queen,
Or bends to passions subdued.
The mind, an elaborate script,
Truths hidden in forgotten corners,
Desiring to be unearthed,
An adventure held within,
A story yet to confide.
Love's intoxicating embrace,
A terrifying vulnerability,
Binds and threatens to consume the self,
A teardrop falls,
A universe brought into absurdity.
Tomes, mere stepping stones,
A path for minds to pave,
But independent thought,
The spirit still will crave.
A mind that soars, barriers cannot tether,
True greatness found in aiding one together.
This freedom, though,
A double-edged blade,
Empowers us to choose,
A heavy weight is laid.
This scene, though pre-primed, awaits our hand,
To see a world where kindness takes a stand.
Schooling's confines, a gilded cage,
Beautiful on the outside, but stifling within.
Education's torch ignites an actor's stage.
We don costumes, recite prescribed lines,
A preordained charade.
Is this all there is?
Is there more to me than just playing a role?
The bygone antiquities,
Lessons left unlearned;
Potential slumbers,
A future yet unearned.
From tainted thoughts, a bitter harvest sown,
Unacted kindness, the burden we have groomed.
Imagination's spark,
A divine excursion,
Yet trepidation lingers,
A shadow in the astral expedition
This circuitous journey, with questions as our guide,
Through borrowed masks,
We search for what's inside.
The introspective quest,
The truth we seek to hide,
Rediscovering essence,
Reflecting our name.
We peer into the mirror,
A surface both clear and opaque,
Does it reflect our quintessence,
Or is it simply an inherited shape?
But is there a soul to tame?
Or are we players in a borrowed game,
Our lines pre-written on a blank script page?
“Actors...take your spots...lights; …and…action!”
Though unseen hands may guide,
The stage is ours to claim.
Copyright © Daniel Henry Rodgers | Year Posted 2024
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