Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2016
I lost dignity trying to fit a culture's mold, I lost self-respect in my rebellion. Trying to fit the "look," looking foolish in my efforts to look cool and have a hard grace. I preserved the made up martyr in me in an effort to feel sane. I gave into temptation from tormentors and deadly weapons--all for a sense, a sojourn, into a limpid environment. I was proselytized into believing the hype of "this will take your stress away."
Delusional.
Leaving the land
to indulgence in the mud.
A self-proclaimed sociologist in a lions den
that was filled with sheep--
becoming intangible in  obsequiousness to the slow-moving beat of the followers.
Diana Williams
Written by
Diana Williams
323
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems