Do you not see passed the handbag and necklaces?
I feel at one with the suffragettes.
Except, the modern interpretation chains me to a desk,
Incarcerated by forms and procedure.
You have no power here over anyone,
Yet gain strength by hiding behind battlements of experience.
Preaching equality and fairness to the higher beings,
Afterwards you stamp out dreams that question you.
Fresh blood is spilt and drained,
Refusing to pump it into the aging veins that need it.
You push and push to the edge of reason,
Did you not realise that we will jump off?
Crashing down the steps of progress,
To lay crumpled like discarded post its.
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