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Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Poetry 109: Will I Rise

Will I Rise

When rage merges 
with heartbreak,
separation feels imminent. 

When me and mine,
greed and fear,
guide my leaders
and my neighbors,
sorrow feels inevitable. 

When day after day
there are more endings 
than beginnings,
destruction than
creation,
despair feels obvious. 

When tear drops
sting the backs of my eyes
with each new reckoning 
of hate and exclusion,
helplessness feels overwhelming. 

When waking up alone
feels terrifying and fruitless,
resignation feels almost possible. 

When curling up in a ball-
afraid to open my senses
to a brave new world
I do not understand-
feels more than tempting,
I ask myself:

Will I rise?

Will I pound my feet 
forward toward 
a freedomland 
I know exists.

Will I sit proud and tall
each daybreak
to allow for one, small,
moment of peace
on my very own  
living room carpet?

Will I sing
and dance
and shout
and march,
and be as nasty as I am
because that is 
more than enough?

I ask myself:
will I rise?

-Me

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