Free Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this in a moment of absolute panic. I was overwhelmed by my fellow humans and this brought me to peace with them.

Submitted: July 11, 2012

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Submitted: July 11, 2012



Well If we aren’t doctors and lawyers and business executives
Then we’re pioneers and activists and scientists with no directives
We’re philosophers and starving artists, volunteers and visionaries
Innovators, calculators, perpetrators, missionaries

But what the fuck, it’s all the same
No one deserves credit, no one deserves blame
The ones we call the winners are just the ones who play the game
We’re all committing suicide with thoughts of jealousy and shame

“Man is free
The coward makes himself cowardly
The hero makes himself heroic.”

We’re both the cowards and the heroes, it’s not hard to figure out
But the starkest sort of hardship is the self-inflicted doubt
We’re animals with names and jobs, and of course that abstract thought
We’re everything we want to be and nothing that we’re not.

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