I'm taking a break from my daily curation project to bring you this poem. If you would like to view my latest curation post, please click here
Justice
who serves it better than the pen in my hand.
Taste a sweet feeling when I play with the sand.
Time
is that for me
Never been linear, by any means
That is, until you molded me.
My throat in your grasp as life escaped me.
Where is my mind when I can't be.
I can't escape me
so I just breathe.
Breathe deep, breathe long, breathe purposefully.
I am still here
I use my time wisely, as much as possible, anyways.
Kindness is my weakness
it's all I want to give.
To walk the purposeful path
How I choose to live.
Even at my weakest, kindness rules my heart.
Dear mind, please be kind when you reflect and look into these delicate moments I haven't got the heart to speak of in the name of art.
These holes in my tapestry from misplaced trust.
It's no wonder why I'm all messed up.
We all fight a battle no one can see.
Justice is tricky. Countless injustices lay upon me.
Outwards
justice is not mine to inforce.
Inwards
The only justice system I manage
I stay the course.
I can only reinforce that which speaks to my soul.
Do things that leads me back to being whole.
Me, my self, and I.
That is my battle cry.
Me
defined differently, me is really we when I see clearly
My self
My physical body, I take care of its health
I keep it functioning to live the life of my choosing.
I
It's complicated
I is what I is, and that's all there is to it.
I am that I am and you can't remove it
Much like a stain, or maybe an ornament
A constant reminder of what life really meant.
