Trading places

root - Posted on 01 January 2000

by Anna Morrow

There is a pristine cleaniliness

that comes from digging through these mazes

This relentless naughty jungle that keeps hostages

of folks that are mightier and penniless

A purity of soul transcends them

hovers over the sticky hot cement

Posibilities rise up from the sweaty pavement

where people hold there hands out

Working hard barely moving in active

participation of grassroots tithing

Consumed by meakness and hostility

dispising and worshiping themseves -

day after dingy day

The monotony collides with hypnotize:

an unavoidable medititation

of what it is to be without

To be lifted up, to fly away

outside this body that offends some

that most everyone ignores

I might rise up above the masses

confessing the secrets of these trenches

shouting out all of the inadequacies and betrayals

into the wind into the ear of god

You could tell the story of our lineage

how our once humble hearts were belittled

and now are humbled once again

by the history of our grievances

the tale of our common sorrows

Unashamed Unadorned Unappologetic


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