Dogged

Our constantly beating hearts,
Coursing a lifeblood that yearns for freedom, choice, decisions.
Our want of the arts,
Yet we pass it by for fear of our next "recession"

Running against this "social damnation"
This seeming hatred of freedom for all.
Yet, we push through, our minds, ever molded for creation.
To find our kindling, ever relighting our passions.

We came here to interact, to enjoy, to embrace,
Against the odds of our terrors, so self-made
By those who are thought to be superior.
To begin, to endeavor, to chase.
Those who so selfishly hold to their career,
Like limpets with no other choice but to grip ever tighter.

We shall fight them in our minds,
Remaining cleverly subservient until our time has come.
For although the rich inherit the earth,
We experience it's true wonder.

Dogged, we are, our every step watched, yet they cannot feel what we feel,
Cannot comprehend struggle and it's own learnt lessons.

In this respect, they to are dogged.
And maybe the schadenfreude speaks too deeply in our hearts,

When we see their Ozymandias in the sand.