My Surrogate Life

The daily drudge
the deadly domestic routine.
A billion lonely souls
round and round the track
each in his own lonely lane.
The great hunter
reduced to bread-winner
executing orders.

My surrogate life.

My body remembers the time
when it ran across the fields
and danced around the fire.
Now it aches and groans
under an invisible load.
And, with my tired soul,
it wants no more
of this surrogate life.

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Posted on 24-05-2011, in Civilization. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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