Poetry

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The wake of my words no longer concerns me,

Nor do the ones who have it out for me.

 

I once bobbed along in docility,

Stifling my anger with fear of the gallows.

Now my rage seethes relentlessly.

It was in my meekness that they found power.

 

But if for my madness,

I’m not ashamed,

What do they have to hold over me?

 

Away and away,

For so long they brushed me.

I was crumbs in the corner

But the rats just ignored me.

 

Day after day,

The dust pile grew bigger,

And as it collected

I found new vigor.

 

When it seemed the calm,

For long enough had remained,

The wind started blowing,

And I cast away my tame.

 

As they looked up

To see the storm that was brewing,

I leapt from my corner

And let loose my ruin.

 

All at once,

The desert that sat quietly

Rose up and filled their lungs.

When the sand takes flight

And blocks out the light,

There is nowhere for bandits to hide.

 

Their day at the beach

May have been sweet,

But when they leave

They are destined to carry me.

 

I fill every nook and cranny,

Every crevice that they’ve yet to find.

They’ll be haunted by grains of my sea shore,

And taunted ‘til the sun won’t rise.

 

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