While aversely obliging
decadent demands
of the reigning, endorsed affluent,
an internal voice howls
interposingly loud
and insists I really shouldn’t:
“pitiful, weary worker,
Coerced, uncaringly ordered,
and damned by upper class rules,
will you ever tire
of being a servile martyr,
of acquiescently singing the blues?”
Yet indignantly yielding I remain,
for on the altar of entrenched conformity,
sacrificed, is this entrancing call
of truth and reason, by an ear-piercing,
reticent silence en masse.
Camille Rose Castillo 2014
