Sometimes it feels <br />as if I am not really living, <br />as I am just marking time, <br />being trapped in a body <br /> <br />where no choices <br />but destiny determines the way <br />that my life is going, <br />while I am not fit <br />to become part of the social structure <br />where everyone else is loosing individuality <br /> <br />and by design I am <br />not made to cringe, to be servile <br />or obsequious <br />and to no man I bend my knees. <br /> <br />I do not fit in the social mould <br />where language, culture, heritage <br />and religion has to be sacrificed <br />for what is seen as the common good <br /> <br />and no one will force me into conformity.<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sometimes-it-feels-as-if-i-am-not-really-living/
