Of self bondage (Day 63 of 100 -- Poetry challenge)

in steemitschoolofpoetry •  6 years ago  (edited)

forever.jpg

What a silly little foible,
how you toil.

Let yourself be.
Let go.

What does it matter
who sees,
when you’re free?

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  • All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.

  • Entry for Day 63 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.

  • Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.

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Here's a question, is it bondage if it is self-induced? You know what they say, you can suffer much more if it's your choice.
If you choose to work, is it really so bad?

But that opens up so many more questions, even if you agree that a choice to work makes it different, not-servitude: Do we really choose, or is it the illusion of choice? How much do these two differ?

I can definitely see for the first stanza and the title, the concept of work, of labor, in today's society, where we don't choose to work, most often. We might choose where to work, what to work at, and because we had some agency in it, we might think we've chosen to work when we don't.

And then, if someone chooses to work, could it be that perhaps it's still self-bondage? That choosing to live with someone who mistreats you can still be donning on the shackles?
Can we choose to not be free, or are we free due to having truly made a choice?

The second part of the poem makes me feel as if you'd agree, that a true choice is freedom, so one cannot choose to be bound. One is free after one has chosen, while being free.

The middle stanza, on its own, reads a bit too much like a fortune-cookie message, like a motivational. But it does lead nicely to the third stanza - let go, because that is freedom. You aren't toiling, when you've let go, of yourself. When you do what you really want to, rather than doing things that aren't true to yourself.

And the last stanza, that comma is quite interesting - when you're free, it doesn't matter who's looking at you - so let go of your hide-bound self-image that constricts you. And without the comma, it would be asking, what does it matter who's seeing you being free? Which is a different question.

But the answer is likewise - when you're free, you're free of caring of how you're perceived. Most importantly, you're free of being bound by your own sight.

I like this poem. Short poems can be so lovely. "Foible" and "toil" are nice-sounding words, and then the rest of the poem is quite economic, yet expansive. Good job :)

Indeed ... we are a slave when we care what other people think. Wonderful penning:)

Yes indeed. What a trap.

I have given up really caring a long time a go. Of course everyone wants to find ones tribe the place to fit , for some it never comes such is the price of refuting faking it ...

I hear that. <3

Aww your smile.... the embodiment of freedom💜

<3 <3 <3 U