A World So Fixed

What could change in a world so fixed?
a ship laid anchor ages ago but still 
its captain wearing his full uniform; 
the wind at harbor can move naught — 
want to look ahead in the crow’s nest,
it all looks fine as I cry every day land — 
the oars so shiny, cleaned and waxed,
the maker’s name still shows so well; 
who knows what purpose are they for?
The hands and ropes are much too mixed,
what could change in a world so fixed?

A day should come when I feel the breeze,
pure and clean of city smoke and tar — 
the little puffs of a factory or a car
not so much working but to vent some — 
like people so idle and blue, 
nothing more comes in but out
among polluted minds I find no peace;
my legs long to stretch my arm to reach
the truth I want to see without no bleach;
all around seems going so fast, yet so still 
walking around statues of the olden times,
I see dreams broken, let go, forgotten; 
I see wills shattered like a wearied shield, 
a sword so sharp, yet too heavy for any to wield — 
too many backs broken and done 
under thoughts piling up for ages saying they were done — 
no more was left to give but plenty to take.
Wading in the mud pool must be risked; 
as I moved I waved the pool around — 
not so still now but eyes raging at me, 
fangs ready to fix me in back in place like hounds;
I am the wave that destroyed the sand castle.
to change much must be abandoned and risked — 
what could change in a world so fixed?
I could; you can.

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