The Mould

When to buy, when to sell
What to chase, what to crave
What to eat, what to drink
How to die, how to live

Whom to love, whom to hate
When to feel, when to fake
How to speak , what to think
What to watch, and when to blink

The frigid claws of steel embrace
The world makes sure I keep the pace
Into a mould my flesh is poured
The force gives birth to trepid clones
Without resistance, without a fight
The world imprints its deathly mark
Without a fight

What to pierce, what to paint
How to walk, how to dress
What to drive, what to weigh
What to earn, how to spend

Whom to cheer, when to jump
Whom to honor, when to clap
What to play, what to sing
What to write, and what to dream

I have been lured, I have been framed
I am sedated, I’m enslaved
Into a cast my flesh is pressed
My fate is sealed, my will compressed
Who will release me, who’ll set me free?
Who will redeem me to be truly me?
Who’ll set me free?

©2001 Dosia McKay
Inspired by St. Paul’s Letter to Romans 12:2

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