CONTROL

By Maisie Barlow


We simply spend our lives


telling each other about our own survival


Why then are we made to be rivals


Sold careful psalms,


reading palms,


the Quran the Bible.


Don’t follow me but look how I grow


This is not about medication


But it’s a sickness


And it’s time to stand up and be a witness


Of this dis ease that we are sitting in,


Move past,

move fast but take a Ritalin


Giving up’s not an option,


neither’s fitting in


Because we’re searching for the unity,


symbolically searching for fresh air to breathe


Suspended,


pretending,


that we’re not all puppets on a string.


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