Scripted

We play by the rules,

good boys and girls,

hoping for some grand prize:

gold star, A-plus.

Suit up. Show up.
Check the boxes.
Pay your mortgage.
Always say
please and thank you.

In our cozy cages,
our lives defined by policy,
we revel in the certainty
that we are the lucky ones.
This is liberty.

Climb the ladder.
Comb your hair.
Dress like us.
Don't argue.
Read the rules
and play along.

You believed them
when they said
you weren't smart enough,
not good enough or strong enough
on your own.

She's not for you.
You can't have two.
Pay attention!
Do as we do.

It must be this way
or you're damned.

You heard the key in the lock.
You thought it trapped you in.
Your script doesn't say
keys can open
as well as close.

We create our definitions.
Boundaries are where we set them.
The rest is just the ephemera
of our limited
minds.

This is a Sunday Scribblings post.