do i want
to tiptoe
through my present
and throughout
my future.
this is not ballet.
and i am not a ballerina.
do i want
to tiptoe
through my present
and throughout
my future.
this is not ballet.
and i am not a ballerina.
Spiralling
Out of control
They cascade
down this dark canvas
Overturned
Ricochet
against the depths of despair
And lurk
Lurk behind the closing door
no rhyme or reason
can justify their
hat- red
for race
for gender
for sexuality…
…differences
of being
For they are the prism
Stuck behind the kaleidoscope of their own colourless thoughts
The cage
They refuse to open
To allow invitation
into the land of freedom of expression
for they keep schtum
Afraid to run
To free- dom
Fear to be anything but ‘normal’
Staid
Relay the hate with speech
The future generations’ realisation
(Plural)
is needed to not be
oppressed and overturned with overtones of
regret
For all the things that they could be
that they should be
That they would- have- been.