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March | Winston Yu (9)

Writer's picture: shsimagesshsimages

We march. We march. We march.

We march because there is no other place to go

Why stray off the path that has been oh so carefully laid out,

just

for

you?

We march because there is no other way to go

Where is it, and how would you see it without the path? The road, oh so carefully laid out,

perfectly,

enticing,

hungry?

We march because what else is there to do?

Why stop and look, why even ponder? Everything is oh so carefully laid out, that

we

fall

right

into

place.

The lamplight shines in many directions, but you must be a laser.

Focused. Bright. Strong.

Stone is messy, but you must be a wheel.

Smooth, (reluctantly) pushed along.

Brick is certain, but you must be the clay.

Malleable. Pliable.

A perfect, shiny 

cog.


Why do we march?


Needless thoughts add weight to carry.


Why do we march?


It is their will that we follow forwards.


Why do we march?


We march for them, for their wishes, 

for we are but rocks tumbling down a river’s

Watchful gaze.


Why do we march?

Sinc-

Why do we march?

For-

Why do

I

march?


Because those who must stop to think are fools.

Because those who must stop to think are left behind.

Because those who must stop to think will starve and die.

Because those who must stop to think

Have no more direction.

Lost, 

decaying, painfully,

unorthodox.

If you have no direction, if you have lost your legs,

Then you will fall to rot.


But if you continue to push without purpose,

wouldn’t you be the one to rot?

You say you are rocks tumbling down a river’s watchful path,

but if it leads you to a drop?

What will you do then, faced with the white foaming rapids of its wrath?

I say you are all fools, sheep following a distant dreary shepard.

I say you are all fools, chasing after an empty voice.

I say you are all fools, for you do not march with purpose, with reason.

But you are desperate to say you do.


I say you will be left to rot. We will march onwards, away from your shameless heresy.

Because we march on, we will have our place.

Because we march on, we will live to see.

Because we march on, we will have purpose.

You are the only one without purpose,

an odd one out.

You jeer at those who have

purpose, while still searching for your own.

Farewell, for if you will not

fit into our place,

then you will have to find your own.

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