Witch Finder GeneralA Poem by Spitzy
I sit with the material things of life,
Cocooning me from the single unavoidable certainty of life. We are told to think and feel, this way or that. We imagine choice and freedom are ours when they are but illusions. Those who do not think in the accepted way are ostracised and held up for shame. Have we come so very far from Salem or the Witch Finder General? Our witches are still non conformists. They are no longer stretched or have thumb screws attached. Simply drawn across the burning coals of the internet. Mentally pulled apart, shredded self respect. Keyboard finders of the witch, From one side of the world to the other. The religion is no longer esoteric, but accepted by all. It is understood by all, And not accepted by the few. The idols are fame and material wealth, The saints are people who are known for being known. Now we are free to be who we want to be, As long as we conform to who we are allowed to be. We realise that death is not the only certainty of life, But the human capacity to highlight the differences of others, And to use them to make us feel like one of the free conformists. Conformity is a cocooning of ourselves to block out the certainty that we are fragile beings, here for a brief time finding eternity in the fact we conformed. Or that fleeting thing called fame, know and notorious for simply being notoriously known. We have only changed the look of chains of conformity, Still shackled because we choose to be. © 2017 SpitzyReviews
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2 Reviews Added on March 24, 2017 Last Updated on March 25, 2017 AuthorSpitzyDerby, Derbyshire, United KingdomAboutLooking for a release of my creative ideas more..Writing
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