Frailty Am I

I hate the degenerate, the break from the norm
I curse it with impassioned hatred
Fervent valor exudes from my being as I plead my right
To be me, to be free, in a world controlled by the whims of others
For man is rarely the captain of his own ship
Seldom the sovereign, always the sailor on the boat of others
Thus like cause and effect he falls for all prescribed notions and deeds
Deemed wrong in his eyes but right in the sight of others
Frailty am I, a picture perfect prey for life’s vice grip
Doomed to be inconsequently ripped to shreds
Until I can form two feet to stand on my own