I was once a diligent pupil, had no clue but passed every exam in town.
I felt the twinge of scruple in swallowing all that had been written down.
My brain was just a tin,
Full of garbage they put it.
This magnificent machine
Reduced to something so mean,
So passive, so thin;
They even had me saying,
With an hollow voice, 'Amen'.
I knew not why or wherefore,
No joy or bon vivant,
I was a ghost, lettered tombs my haunt.
As I tried more - greater burdens I bore -
The more I was bored by it all.
Years later, I found myself lazing,
And my soul set to blazing,
In an auto-reflective process
Who's only measure is its own pleasure;
Rumination on self-assertion/
Adoration of its own salvation -
That stimulates and engrosses
In a way that docile, out-ward centred
Obedience never can, and usually censors.
We must all listen to the voice of Nature, of the gods within -
in order to begin our blossoming;
But don't take my word for it - look within!