.
     Our stance strong,
     our conviction -
     unwavering,
     brandishing knives
     with blunt tips.

                           But our hearts fail
                           to acknowledge
                           the shallow
                           and feeble breaths
                           that hide behind
                           cracked ribs.

a branch
to sit in my reverie
not the trunk of the tree
a couples of leaves for shade
as I wade through the day

I just need
a stream
to wet my feet
not an ocean
some rocks to walk across
and cool myself off

I just need
a handful of blueberries
to quiet my rumbling tummy
I’ll leave the lot on the bush
for someone that’s hungry
so, they won't have a rumbling tummy

I just need
a roof
to shield me
from the cold and rain
doesn't matter size or shape
just a place to call home
when I don't need to roam

I just need
a few seconds, my friend
to catch up on things    
not a whole afternoon
it appears a lot to ask
life flies by us so fast

I just need
someone that receives me
not someone that nods their head
at all I said
or refuses to look me in the eye
when we’re not on the same side

At the end of every twisted road,
there's a subtle sense of victory;
Relief in signs of breathless sighs,
restoring our pride and dignity.

Calamitous routes in honored claim,
now reveal a robust history;
For those who've conquered what remains,
from their uncommon curiosity.

In reaching back among the crowd,
we hear the chanting sounds' velocity;
That will grant a waging war of words,
far beyond its sheer ferocity.

While the broken pieces of the day,
are cleverly tossed and scattered;
For winning never seemed to be,
the thing that truly mattered.