Occupational Hazard

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.

When Pigs Can Fly

Northern lights in the south,

A cloud on the ground,

A rainbow with an end,

A pin dropping with a sound—

The hopeful musings

Of an almost hopeless soul

Weigh on the spirit

And take their toll

On the fragile frame

Keeping it all intact,

While the mind keeps searching

For what the heart has lacked.

Yet the spirit holds on

To the thinnest thread

And stays on the most

Trodden of paths to tread,

Deluded by the mirage

Of dreams, fulfilled,

Hopelessness, abated,

And the chance to build

An impregnable stronghold

From the broken glass,

In which fruitful are the trees

And barren is the past.

The torch is lit

And we carry it fast,

Fanning the fleeting flames

To make them last.

If the light burns out

And we are left in the dark,

We steady a rock

To light a new spark.

And on the dimly lit path

We continue to stumble

Along our blind quest,

yet our hopes do not crumble.

In the shadows, we discern

Where our predecessors lie,

But upon closer inspection

We let out a cry—

We see ourselves,

The ghosts of our past

Having been here before,

Caught in the net we had cast

While trying to catch our dream.

Startled we run on the familiar road,

Deaf to the warnings

We do not want to decode.

This time we will reach it,

The oasis we seek,

We will climb the mountain

To its shimmering peak.

This time the journey

Will have an end

And will not repeat itself

Around the next bend.

Patience is a virtue, indeed,

But how long must we wait

To reach the view

That will reveal us our fate?

How hard must our limbs work,

How far must we walk,

Until we see a pig fly

Instead of a hawk?

How many pennies spent,

How many chocolates bought,

Until we find the golden ticket

And receive our happy lot?

How many smiles shared,

How many gazes lost,

Until the reward

Surpasses the cost?

Questions unanswered

As life’s questions are,

We shoot past the moon

For the farthest star,

Hoping for the star to fall

To make our ponderings true,

That heart break simply forged the way

For love to follow through.

But, alas, our anxious aim

Fails to strike the mark,

And doubt makes a swift return

To join us in the dark.