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The rules of the game have changed…

… since the whole world around me made me sick

By Mescaline BrissetPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 2 min read
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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I saw all the pots and pans taken away

From the familiar kitchen

To the smelly dungeons of inhuman hypocrisy

Why am I surprised that nothing ever tasted to me?

Since that time

You have been beating the cutlets on the ground

There are so many tables in the house

Why didn’t you use them like any human?

I am not an animal, I won’t eat from the ground

Where is decency, where is common sense?

It was taken from me that day

And I was strenuously asked to believe

That our whole race

Changed to an irreconcilable breed

It’s the same now that I have to believe

In all the rules that shouldn’t exist

Without logic, with the tautology

Of uttering words without acknowledging it

That this is it

Wasting time writing about writing

Who would like to read

That I woke up, ate, and had an idea?

Instead of conveying the actual concept on paper

Never mind, I write it anyway

Perhaps in the future someone would be interested

My heirs, not children, but people who would care

What was I going to say

Even though no one wanted to listen

They closed their ears, eyes, and heart to the sound

Of my harsh voice

Decimated by diseases descended on me

In thousands

And leaving all my enemies untouched

So, I think I have every right to write to get justice

If there’s no other way

Of exposing the erroneous things

At least that’s how they can be transposed

To another level

Allowing an appropriate apprehension

By some who may be concerned

About one life designed not to be meaningless

*

22 October 2021

revised on 10 January 2022

***

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About the Creator

Mescaline Brisset

if it doesn't come bursting out of you

in spite of everything,

don't do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your

heart and your mind and your mouth

and your gut,

don't do it.

so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski

Find me on Medium

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