Templates to follow:
rigorous directives
serving little purpose
but to enslave, to bind
the free-est spirit
to that dull and lonely
world of protocol
and the monotony
of an ordinary life.

But we’ll fight it,
can’t bear the thought
of sitting in cubicles
three foot square – four
at a startup – for a cause
we don’t quite know
or trust enough to give
our full support; for some cash
we’re not quite sure we earned.

Rebels in the works,
jamming the machines
whose cogs think we’re crazy
but secretly wish
they’d done the same;
attending to ourselves
before our corporate masters;
needing only what’s right
in front of eyes fully-opened.

Risking certain futures
isn’t an act of stubbornness
born of that childish need
to forever be contrary; we feel
compelled to loose ourselves;
fear the chains our parents
willingly embraced
… for us; we want better…
to be better, wholer.

So we fight for them
to live through our audacity,
to feel the wind in their hair
or the adrenaline in their blood
as they plummet towards stability
from twenty thousand feet up;
every defiance, deviation
from the norm, is just another attempt
to say, thank you

for everything.

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