We build walls of insecurities out of sand.
Mixed with the grains of every desire wanted.
This child shoveling sand with plastic heart beats, & hollow rhythms, attempts to utter a Simple hello.
Hello, to the true Human condition.
This hello is not what I want.
But the dream, a pixelated picture, not yet complete, floats along bending rivers of doubt, & opportunity. Longing to become whole..
To become whole with the freedom, I deserve.
Yet my anxieties beckon me.
My elders of the court, surrounding, judgement passing, of what true pain means.
Are we all not children?
Discovering that our roots were slowly embedded with and from the Scorned children, before us.
By our oppressions and automated systems, that have created the demons in our closets, & The monsters underneath our beds.
Awaiting for the Court, to hand us our fates..
These Elders, watch my aspirated expression, turning me blue with Rage.
"Don't speak out.
For the Foundation of this Very Court, was built on the Silence of Hushed lambs."
The surrender to appointed Society, has tainted the Fine woven threads of our wool, giving no Remorse for the Unfed child's belly.
An insatiable hunger to scream, "We have a voice!!"
We are a stairway of Bodies, rising our Oppressors, higher than our own souls.
Though we should fly freely among those un-chained,
We are a whisper, fighting against the forceful winds, who claimed Democracy.
If we are equals, why must we not Speak?
Why In a Valley littered with deaf ears, and blind hearts, can we only hear our elders sing...
With liberty, and Justice for all.
