poetomachia

It doesn’t give us value or virtue
It only logs the mistakes we make along the way
Pulling us through this concrete pipe obstacle course
As we try to stand out like a pageant winner
Or go through the motions to satisfy mom

Keeping us all wishing for freefall
And a soft landing
Making some of us forsake all else
Keeping others dutiful
As others rebel
For a while

Dammit!
The system is in feedback
The system equilibrates
The system lies
But never for long

We stand like wash on a line
We are folded
We are stored
We are held in reserve

For a time