I Do What I Must To Survive.

I am merely an instrument,

To be wrung until I respond with

The words, the notes, that you

Desire to hear.

Chimes buffeted in the wind,

I, myself, am incapable of creating

The mellifluous cliches you all

Beg of me--

I must be swayed,

Beaten against myself,

Until I relinquish the

Apologetic banalities that

Appease all accusations.

So, pound me,

Shake me,

And I will bleed emotion

In time with the obligatory cacophony

 Of life;

But know that inside,

I feel nothing.

Author's Note

Mmhmm.

Reviews

[FJ Davis]

Cynical and palpably defiant.
"Feeling nothing" is often another way of saying: I am experiencing stultifying rage, and while I will not now unleash that rage on you, I am going to dig in my heels, hard. Simply put, I won't volunteer a thing!--I won't give you any of me!
Then, of course, the poem could mean something else entirely.
Lyrically written, Ben.

[festus]

I like it.

[Coyote Poetry]

A poem that open many questions. Easy to feel empty and not see anything worthwhile. I believe we need to find something good to motivate us. We can't wait for a purpose. We must find one. A excellent poem.
Coyote