I ask myself when I’m down and alone,
how much of "me" do I still own?
how much "they" got; be it hidden or shown,
how much is left -of me- for "me"?
My mind is theirs and there's no doubt,
long years of schooling an' a pre-planned route,
a mean education has killed the young scout,
that once lived within me.
My heart is hers and she's long gone,
taking with her the moon and the glorious sun,
the essence of my being has fled an' flown,
leaving void and despair for me.
My soul is mine intact and pure,
they tried and they failed; that’s for sure,
"when to say no" was the ultimate cure,
that always worked for me.
End
A.L.Gomaa © Östersund-Frösön Island-Sweden 15 June, 1992
