Dear Corporations,

I could never trap myself within a suit for all my life
I envision a life of wonder and color
Of hope and love and all the stars above to be shown down upon me
I feel as though in this world, this society
Could never come to such sobriety
I would be trapped in the modern world and beyond
To a world that is not kind
With media booming
My heart is being tugged
By strings
By this new land
This land among the other wonderlands
A world where I am home

I could never be content
With being confined
A suit
In silhouette
An obscure outline of the girl
I used to be
A suit
With buttoned up shirts
And pencil skirts

I could never conform
Would never conform to
A world full of squares when I am
An octagon
When I am
An oval
When I am a bit too square to be circle
But a bit too circle to be square
When my
Pentadecagon like figure is too much
Or too little
I will never configure
Myself to a desk
I’d rather pull the trigger
Straight to my head instead of being another digger
For gold in a meaningless mine
Awaiting to escape to a time
Too far to reach
Too deep to drill
Too small to see
Too faint to smell
I would never...

(Would I ever?)

Optimum Regards,


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