jellyperson
why do we work?
do we seek the thrill of the paycheck,
the breathy adrenaline of office life?
or do we instead long for the mundanity of a rut
knowing that it is too dangerous to be who you can truly be
i once read in a book that if every child in england smiled at everyone they saw then everyone would get smiled at 300 times
i wonder if somebody would notice?
if somebody could tell that maybe every kid had ganged up for smile day
and that maybe it was okay for a bit
and maybe everyone could forget about things
they expect so much of me
i am a lion prodded by a lion tamer
jumping through rings and hoops
i do not think
but someday i will turn
and i will roar
and no-one will expect anything else
angry at her at
me i roar i roar i roar
why not fair life is a tapestry that i have not yet learnt to weave
now spent like a child's pop gun
is there any use
in trying to shoot again?