as on a musical score,
our parts are dictated,
spelt out in dynamics,
in rhythm, in pitch, in
timing, in tone.
our fingers are being manipulated
across the instruments of our lives,
abandoning the very soul of our existence.
but observe how a little improvisation
in this large chorus of soulless players
does no harm.
it's liberating -
like a line that cares not for rhythm nor syntax nor sound nor length.
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
as on a musical score,
our parts are dictated,
spelt out in dynamics,
in rhythm, in pitch, in
timing, in tone.
our fingers are being manipulated
across the instruments of our lives,
abandoning the very soul of our existence.
but observe how a little improvisation
in this large chorus of soulless players
does no harm.
it's liberating -
like a line that cares not for rhythm nor syntax nor sound nor length.
On conformity
Request permission to use this poem