Padlock Junction

Gullible phub
Thewless prodigy
Prodigal daughters of our time.
Erudition superstition
Not at odds here.
No bolt may stifle
The freedom of your consciousness.
Burn down the library
And crucify the church
If you must.
The padlocks you’ve purchased
are your own to pound.

Written for Week #3 of Nate’s poetry class, Fun With Words. The challenge was to write a poem with a combination of concrete and abstract ideas.

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