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Programmed Souls
What do you mean by this sign? Is it for
naught that these things happen? Or, is it a programmed life we lead, with each little IBM-like scar a happening… pre-ordained from the onset?
I heard somewhere that we were free souls... endowed with freedom of choice. But, if so, why are we subject to certain irrefutable peaks and valleys of happenings with but one inevitable end? Like a snowball rolling downhill, getting larger with each turn, yet doomed to a meltdown fate of nothingness? Or maybe like a tree awaiting the woodsman's axe and,a long trip to the mill for an associate membership in a far distant rooftop… or a stained and waxed credenza sitting majestically in a proud home… preserved through the years by generations of loving, gentle and appreciative hands to be temporarily discarded and then born anew and restored into a beautiful antique to be watched over and revered for still
another generation of time? Or maybe a nail in an outhouse floor, long ago primed from tons of debris, melted down and molded and then thought about for a fleeting second as some one pulls it from a pocket, and eyes it just long enough to drive it, without mercy, to the flat of it's head in some new work to remain there for an infinity?
Who are we? From whence have we come? ... and what is our destiny? How can we guide our lives, learn from our pasts and shape our futures if we have been keypunched into fragments
of being and led by the nose to our consummate end, thinking all the while that we were free souls with our destinies shaped by choice?
Free souls... indeed!
Dude, i like the poem but it was a little hard to comprehend, maybe because of the format it was written in. I feel that if you have seperated the stanza's then it would be much easier to understand, other than that i think u got your point across in the end. Nice.