worse than victimizing myself is making the writer in me a victim too.
there is no justification or truth in saying that the world i live in is hindering my ability to flow on paper,
because the world i live in should be the reason i find courage enough to fail over and over again before finally being heard..
because when i get heard i am going to sing the praises of the powerful, the peaceful.
Shout from the tip-top of my lungs about the endurance of memory and the frailty of our kind;
will no one acknowledge that we are heartbroken because we are adrift on Blue Planet, left to our own devices and traipsing astray?
Hold my hand and read my lips, i will weave together salves for wounds with words because I am afraid for our mortality,
wasting away wondering where to wander, but you are not lost dear.
I want to be heard because I want to supply the reassurance that seems to have run dry,
I want to feel the pulse of the public and make its heart race with joy,
You are not so alone when every lonely soul in this room beats to the same bounce.
know that there is not wrong and right in the matters of that place inside you,
but only a matter of time before the ticking of your own time bomb
will click-clack in stride with the grinding of your teeth, jaw clenched to keep tongue in cheek but we are all of us holding the same secrets behind our teeth,
baring smiles like dogs with raised hackles because I do not know if
I am satisfied or terrified, if
I am glorified or glaring.
What I do know, the only thing I am certain of,
There is something to be said for sympathy.
There is something to be said for sanctity;
because even before sunrise we are not hearted in stone and,
there is some love left in humanity.
Know this: You are not alone,
Your struggle is no novelty.
Look up in the morning because the sun is always setting on
lovers silent and savage,
Look up in the morning because the sun is always setting on
fighters lonely and loved.
Look up in the morning, because the sun is always setting,
on and on.
Garbanzo Bae 