in front of you
hanging
above you
all the time
behind you.
It is a leather coat slowing down your shoulder.
An armour in the way of faster.
A frame keeping you in the limits
of its edges
off the sedges
of its limitations.
One size fits all.
One regulates.
One deorders.
Deraises.
Uniformes.
Marches.
Matches.
Waiting for you after a feeling
It gives you a direction
wrong, obviously.
But you follow it blindfolded by the youth of your heart your mind your life.
You receive it as a gift
poisoned
like a Christmas chalice
impossible to bring back
by your predecessors
to get rid of it
parents or others.
You feed it and nurture it
With passion
and conviction.
It grows under the sun
weedgrass
nourished by some
natural
artificial
maneuver.
Latent, deep within you.
Ancient. After all, you.