Rules

A year has passed since I first started posting in this blog. Not bad, although certainly I could have kept up with the content a lot better. Nothing I can do about that now, only what I can do in the future. I was looking at my original post, which was about rules in writing, and more specifically rules that I have for myself. The post said it needed to be updated, but I honestly haven't thought of anymore rules, not that I have been thinking about it for very long, nor do I intend to. But I thought to celebrate my belated blogs birth (honestly I planned to do this post six days ago and well, forgot) I am going to write a poem about rules.


Rules

They tell me that rules
are made to be broken.
That rule keep only
keep you down.
Then they tell me
that laws
are made to be broken.
That laws are what
the Man
uses to keep us down.
They shout things like
"Fuck the police"
in some strange accent,
like they are trying to hide
their voice.
But these same people,
the rulebreakers,
rely on those rules.
They can't be cool
if they aren't breaking rules,
doing there own thing.
And then they whine
and scream when those
rule makers change things.
Because when those rulemakers
don't follow the rules,
well,
it is just anarchy,
because rules are there for a reason.

Copyright 2008 William Curb