We are dancers of the soul,
Fencing with lauguage
To exorcise our truth,
Our passion,
Our pain.

We are bent over
Retching words from the darkest corners of our souls,
We are laying on cold concrete,
Cheeks pressed to old news print as our truth bleeds out,
Rages out!
Spews forth with the bile of
Words never spoken, not honored or even fully felt,
Yet there
in truth
buried!

Until...
Contained no longer,
They burst through
And like a mob unseating a dynasty,
They chant and sweat and rage and dance
Until their cause is heard and seen.
Until the News at Ten reports
That "the world is NOT AT ******* PEACE!"
That our own kingdoms will not tolerate suppression
And that our souls will be held down no longer.
That we WILL be heard!
We will no longer sit and do as dictated through years and decades and lifetimes of docile abdication.
We will NOT BE SILENT
But with our spines straight
We will rise up and
be heard,
Counted.
And fight with our poetry,
With our ink or keyboard
For the goal of freeing what we know in the depths of our hearts to be...
Our truth

Bless us!