I. The Cemented Men

“I’m done tormenting the cemented men,”
Cried the boss in my brain, through the stroke of his pen.
“I’m writing these lines to erase all the ties,
With the public insane, and their prudent disguise.”

“For long ago, the rules were paved across a liquid land,
Cementing those who could not make their stand.
And as the experts carved their silent task,
They sold as sanity the human mask,
To curtain our Imagination’s sight,
And bind a darkness round our heart’s delight.

And those who call it free to think beyond the stone,
Are still cemented in a concrete throne,
And those who bear the actor’s script,
Are stranded in their rusted ship,
And those, whose pain does stain their prison cell,
Have hoped with tears to fill their wishing well,
And those who preach with borrowed phrases,
Have been taught to seek in polished mazes.
They all have hoped in vain, and yielding to ancestral strife,
Are raised, through Time, as the statues of forgotten life.”