Zutter

Thu, 07/14/2016 - 22:59 -- MEH_GN

The lights on the ceiling blurred my vision
As I lay on my back,
Humming low.
The world is cruel to
The young who
Have no place to go.
And the first thing I saw when
I stepped into the open
Everyone else is always trying to define you,
Those with no spine who,
Have no place to go to.
Everyone feared the forest then.
I'll never forget when I picked up that pen.
To solidify what seemed to have no substance.
But this pen gave me substance.
I am who I am now because of it.
There was a time when I obeyed
The cruel and depraved
Because I was afraid
Because I was nothing then
They told me I was nothing then
But they were as wrong as sin.
I remember when my foot grazed
Leaves and sticks
And the forest hummed with nocturnal music.
And those who beat us because of the power we contain-
Said I was insane
But I stepped into the frame.
In the mystery there was power
In my overt defiance, power
The forest was the only place without fiends
It belonged only to me
And in the confrontation of widely regarded danger, there was power.
I navigated the forest with impotent skill
But I ran on pure will
A pathfinder on my window sill
Gave me that pen
And by their lantern's light I took my stride,
No need to hide,
No need to hide.
Or in another world miles away,
Lapping against volatile tides,
A buoy to guide me to the shore,
No need to hide.
No need to hide.
Criticize the words I speak,
Because their syntax does not abide,
But I write not for beauty, but of necessity.
I will not hide.
I will not hide.
The lights on the ceiling blurred my vision
As I lay on my back,
Humming low.
The world is cruel to
The young who
Have no place to go.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community

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