Exile before Conformity
Every room cold and dreary
Each day long and weary.
Behind closed doors I trudge on
Beyond the wire laced hole I see my freedom
My life, meaningless to them all
My views, inside their box they would have them be.
The halls, crawling with their victims
Minds of the masses festering with wounds
created by their tyranny.
Scawled on the wall
Their plans for us all.
Despite the elation
Seen in their faces.
In spite of their facade
In this mass complication.
I see your pain, I feel your sorrow.
I see deep inside, empty and hollow,
I cannot help you.
I've heard you say you'll stand your ground
But I've seen your pathetic lack of will.
They surround you and you crumple inside
No longer willing to stand up to your promise.
Your empty, rueful, shallow being disgusts me.
You hae no vision, actions controlled from without.
Your ambition devasted by your pathetic lack of will.
I'd rather face exile, before I conform to this.
Because life outside this "holy" prison
beyond this glassed-in steel cage
exceeds the pseudo-solace felt here.
Yeah, I'd rather face exile than conformity.
-Isaac DeLeon
© 2000
