Is it possible for a poet to be without words and yet still be pained with the need to give voice to the feelings inside?
It must be because that is how I feel at this very moment.
My heart is wrenching itself from my ribs and dislocating itself from my chest because it knows that it deserves and needs to be free in order to perform its function properly. Yet, it also recognizes that the order imposed by this system of bones and sinews, veins and arteries, and nerves and vessels constricts its capacity to function effectively. Strange to think that the very system which needs my heart for survival will not give it what it needs to provide it with the full measure of life it desires; it is happy to exist at a restrained level of existence because it is afraid to let go of control.
This is precisely what is happening in society today. The system of laws and politicians, judges and courts, social norms and conventions are afraid of releasing control of the very people who will set them free to live the fullest life they have ever dreamed of.
I can only assume that it is the tantamount fears of not being in control and of the unknown that causes those with the illusion of control to muster all they can to retain the illusion. But, this is a catch-22 dilemma because the very act they hope will save them is causing a slow death through social suffocation and stagnation. Constrict the vein or artery that provides and sustains life and there shall be no life.