You gave me a halo to wear long ago,
In exchange for the soapbox I slipped under your feet.
I was comfortable, watching you speak,
Lost in the crowd, humble and meek.
My voice was lost in the surrounding throng,
As my senseless body was pushed along,
My sight, perverted by the daily show,
My gaze, averted by the shame of defeat.
And then, the sound that struck a chord,
The sound of silence across the board.
Looking up, beyond your eyes,
I saw the heavens and heard the cries
Of our sisters watching us down below,
Praying their mistakes we not repeat.
Feeling in my extremities regained,
I tore off the halo your ego had stained.
F**k the image you created of me,
Take back your shackles, I’m done, I’m free.
I’ll take back my soapbox from long ago,
And under my shadow you can have a seat.
No comments:
Post a Comment