Transformative Ink
I will not missed this world
of contradictions:
When I was young
they said:
uneducated, inexperienced.
Now I am trained
and with many winds
at my back,
they said:
too old, too qualified.
Let them go to hell,
with their contrived justice
and paradox.
Applied for a job,
forgot how many times,
now, and denied;
just to be called lazy.
The system filled me with vexations;
I want to burst with rave.
Will it be like this forever?
Will word sounds cause a revolution?
The whole thing is fixed.
Destined to fail before conception.
Word sounds can do it.
If we don't teach the children
nursery rhymes
and we break the stick
that jumped over the moon.
poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
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