Who Rules You

Katie B.

Moving in and out of doorways

Cycling through

 

Marching to the compulsory drum

Accomplishment earns

 

Over doing rewarded

Drowning in an illusion

 

Influenced by the defunct

Nameless, faceless

 

The pool of obligations

The vat of expectations

 

Wide eyed subterfuge

A blind push

 

Yet we ascribe 

Dutifully

 

Burnt out, burnt up

Begging for liberation

 

Time irreversible

Lost time cataclysmic

 

Reclaim, refrain

Resist the implicit

 

March to your drum

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: Katie B. (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 29th, 2026 06:37
  • Comment from author about the poem: The media and society send a message that we should be doing, going, active, involved at all times. These expectations are unattainable and unrealistic. They lead people to over commit, overdo and string themselves out. There is great joy and solace in a slow-paced life where you can connect and observe. I will not heed the call.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 27
  • Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments +

Comments6

  • sorenbarrett

    Katie this hits where advertisers promote, politicians plea, the media fires us up and our neighbors expect what is more than good for us. It drives the economy it sells and it smells. Be what we are not what society expects and wants. A lovely write

  • Tristan Robert Lange

    Katie, that “pool of obligations / vat of expectations”…that’s the line that really stays. It captures the weight without needing to explain it. Beautifully done, my friend. And amen to your comment. Me either! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

  • Doggerel Dave

    'I will not heed the call' Neither should anyone else....
    Short sharp lines make your point.

  • Goldfinch60

    We must think outside the box Katie and not get drawn in by the plethora of lies that we here every day.

    Andy

  • Vipassana

    I've read several poems here that all describe a kind of discontent with continuing to do things the way we always have--

    Marching to the compulsory drum
    Accomplishment earns.

    (I include myself in this description--When nothing makes sense anymore--a poem recently published here.)

    March to your drum, Katie B.

  • Kevin Hulme

    Couldn't agree more. It always irritates me when January starts: People on Television talk about February. When Feb starts: It's March.
    And as for Christmas adverts in August...
    Can we not live life at our own Pace.
    Well Written.



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