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Claire Kowal Nov 8
The hands on the clock reflect nothing more than  a concept
My hands aren’t meant to keep everything on a schedule
My bones don’t bend like the rest
The eye of the world doesn’t see its flaws
With the light fading,
As everything stills,
I realized something.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out for living
But I know better than to give up.

I don’t face danger head on,
The use of my mind will get me by,
Because I can’t be reckless,
My life is on the line,
And I play a fair game.

So when my pawn becomes a king,
and I obtain power,
I will dominate in my field of life
The flowers around will bloom,
And the earth will course through our veins.

For my casket will be bare until I decide I’m going to reside
I will find a new place to call home in the meantime,
But when I watch the moon fall,
The tears will follow
For I stand in my wake,
Of a stream I have yet to experience.
Claire Kowal Nov 8
Heat and hearth give birth to the pain of the people
Burning down whatever was created
Blowing away the ash left behind from memories
The wind whispering tyranny into the ears of the leaders
Portraying violence among the people we once called friends
The understandings of a mind get burned
Causing strain in society

There is no more room for hope
The noose is around our necks
We are getting whipped into place
One foot out of line and we’re gone
The fear coursing through our veins should be replace with anger
Anger towards those who wrong us
The ones who decide what we can and can’t do
The ones who say they’re doing it in the name of God
Well, I hate to break it to you
There is no God,
There is no one coming for us except ourselves
Claire Kowal Nov 7
As if our stars were crossed
Our fate was left in the cruel hands of the gods
Slowly compiling us into madness.

For as the gods stand,
We are the ones they look down upon.
For that is why we change the course of history

To feel alive.
Something the gods will never feel
Claire Kowal Nov 6
If the day ends and I no longer have the rights to myself,
Is it truly the land of the free?
Or is it only free to the straight white men that loom in offices and make laws on matters that don’t relate to them.
If I wake up tomorrow and see I can’t love who I love,
Is it really what Jesus said when he said love thy neighbor?
Or is thy neighbor only supposed to be a straight white Christian man?
A man who claims to live by a book written by other men like him,
Claiming stories of a man who loves everyone,
Of a man who said everyone must love equally
But why do these men not follow the simple rule from the book they revolve their lives around?
Is it that hard to love each other?
To love me?
A pained fifteen-year-old girl who wants to love someone and be loved,
Yet the rights of being a girl and the rights of love are ripped out of my torn and blistered hands and handed to the boy next to me who already has his own rights of living.
Is my life worth less than the next person because I might not marry a man?
That I might need to save my life by having an abortion after I’m ***** by the same men who claim they know me and my body?
At least my struggles aren’t as intense as my friends,
But is that a good thing?
No.
My rights might become limited,
But theirs might be truly gone
If the sun breaks the horizon and I lose everyone and everything I’ve ever known,
Will my home of the brave no longer be a home to those who fall into the categories of failure?
The work I’ve created, we’ve created, might be destroyed once the ticks of the tallies grow.
this is referencing the us election

— The End —