A sort of an afterthought that the poem just doesn't leave despite having read it some good five years go, it stays there, among my personal favourites. Not, that I claim to having read many so far, but, this one is just close to the heart, let's say.
After having had a hearty breakfast, and some serious pondering over the unfairness in life, the poem comes hauntingly back as a reminder of how entrapment is not just physical, mental, emotional, or material--it is indeed, in an invisible heirarchy--that cannot be broken easily.
You're either denied freedom, or simply cast away. And, this is not a tale of fantasy, it's us, the living, breathing organisms who strive together for an obscure, invisible gold, amidst the invisible trappings.
The ones who buy polish from money, refinement and pedigree from material wealth, and somewhat meekly bow to the superficial challenges in life.
So, what becomes of you, my love?
So once you think you're in, you're out,
'cause you don't mean a single thing without
The handbags and the gladrags
that your poor old Grandad had to sweat to buy you
And, don't we all face this kind of deathly blow almost everyday, where our souls are nailed to the wall, without a masterly stroke of talent?
I am not seeking, fuck, I'm not even close to seeking anything besides some afterthought after breakfast!
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