The economy of autonomy

From my inception

My actual conception

My heart has bled

An independent red

But life sullied

By big fucking bullies

Renders an adjunct

And purpose defunct

Blind eyes seeing

A lifetime fleeing

From your* control

Pleads my yearning soul

A burning desire

An emancipation fire

Enough of this poverty

Of basic self-sovereignty!

(You see…)

To be autonomous

Constantly synonymous

With my daily presence

It’s my very essence

A life of latitude

Would so improve my mood

Finally, begins self discovery

And, just maybe, my recovery

— — — — — — — — —

* plural