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by Mike
Rated: · Poetry · Arts · #1419323
My stand against the oppression of the unique.
The wind blows back memories of indifferent souls
The scent of indifference, the whisper of the middle
The wind blows back extremist opposition
A foggy unwillingness, A distant sight of closure
The wind blows back my hair and I am released
Sprung free, fleeing Starbucks and taking a stand
A stand against the rising tide of conformity.
© Copyright 2008 Mike (mkovanda1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1419323-The-Rising-Tide