Thank you for telling what to do
What to see and what to believe
But I've grown up now so let me be
Thank you for telling me what to think, what to feel and what to say
But I have my voice now and my purpose is my own
Thank you for telling me what I can and cannot do, for showing me what you want me to choose
But I take responsibility for my decisions and the repercussions that follow
Thank you for protecting me from my free will and right to exist as I see fit
But I take back my sovereignty and hold the power of all that I am.
Thank you for all your misguided advice, your kindness in holding me back. I appreciate it.
But now it's my time to be released and give myself to myself
In love no longer living in fear.
Thank you
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Author:
Saxon Crow (
Offline) - Published: November 25th, 2021 09:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Doggerel Dave, spilleronsheet.
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Comments6
Well one might think this is all about your father but it can't be cos he's such a nice bloke ! ! !
So who's the bad guy.... scout leader? teacher? the pope? taxi driver?....
Your shout Saxon.
A nice poem applicable to any elder .Only the misguided advise makes us wonder. Happy thanksgiving
Great stuff, Sax.
The adjustments and compromises parents have to make as offspring mature, I’m sure is very difficult. (I have only observed this process between my parents and I; Never been a parent myself).
Whatever the difficulty, the move to individuate must be undertaken if survival as a free autonomous human being is to be achieved.
(Aah – too heavy – go for dusk’s lighter version).
This poem is to the nanny state that always takes and disempowers.
Ah - I'm for once (and only once) glad that the norm at MPS allows for different interpretations of works.
With respect to your original intent, I'm half inclined to probe further, but believe this is neither the time nor place.
Doesn't alter the fact that it is a great piece of polemic.
In our lives we must always take our own paths to lead us into our own lives.
Andy
Great one dear poet
People may acclaim that we are rebel in our own way
Disrespecting their advice
But isn’t it high time
Peace
For once let us speak
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