It’s not easy to be a ‘Rebel of Society’
“What do you do?” the first question asked
Never know what to say when challenged with this task.
I WRITE MUSIC, I wanna shout from the roof
Though I bottle it in, for fear of sounding uncouth.
But that’s what I do, it’s lyrics i write
As I listen to silence through the loneliest nights.
As I walk through the woods, I think of a rhyme,
Every step that I take, every second of my time.
For it’s my sole purpose, the very reason I’m here,
To bring poetry and truths to the listening ear.
I know it’s my path, I’ve found my way
But I’m not taken seriously because “it doesn’t pay.”
So in actual fact, what they want to know
Is not ‘what you do’ but “how do you make doe?”
So I make my way through the long list
Of things that I “do” in order to make my wish
Come true for me in such a way
That one day it will actually pay.
“One day I’m a waitress, the next I’m a clerk
All I can do to keep myself in work.
I promote different brands and I give out flyers,
Anything possible to keep my hired.
I work in events and travel a bit…..”
I can pay your rent you arrogant git!
“Ah, but you see,” they say slightly annoyed
“The problem is, you’re self-employed!
When your clients do not pay
Will you leave or will you stay?”
“Please! I’ve told you all I do
To make sure I can make it through.
I’ve paid more than my fair share
Of rent, on time, throughout the years.
I need a roof over my head,
My own space and my own bed.
I’ll even pay you more up front
Let me give you two more months.”
“I’m sorry, we’re not looking for your kind,
A free-thinker with an open mind.
We need to know you’re getting paid
Three times the rent, a regular wage.
Until then we can not help
Good luck with your search, we’ll see you out.”
Forlorn and broken, wanting to cry,
I walk out the door wondering why
It’s so hard these days to find a home,
To lock out the world and call your own.
Surely it’s a human right
To have somewhere decent to sleep at night.
“Play by the rules and everything’s sweet,
Show the evidence you’re on your feet.
If you’ve reached 30 and haven’t reached your goals,
Maybe it’s time you sell your soul.”
This is when I refuse to listen
I will not join this slavery system.
Through it all I refuse to budge
People gossip and people judge
But what are we without our dreams?
Birth and death, nothing in between.
So I will continue to write my songs
And grasp opportunities as they come along.
I’ll manifest my soul’s desire,
Stoke the flame of my inner fire.
I’ll continue to write the prose of my heart,
For this is my project, THIS is my art.
So, in essence, my REAL work forces me to be
A rebel of this society
But if that’s what it takes for my mind to be free
Then…… let it be, c’est la vie.