words fall short

here in the wasteland of scorching heat

the plains of boiling bigotry and bitterness

where morality and kindness can be exchanged

there are dangerous creatures lurking

those who bask in the hate, highlighting the forked tongue

so often the beautiful, vibrant  allure of a well-honed predator

outshines the best of the loving, caring, compassionate creatures

we have no need for trickery

he is sweet and loving and kind

he cries when it hurts to be him

on his back are the footprints of his brothers and sisters

those who promised to hold his life as their own

those who promised him tantamount to their beloved

in the end, he was alone, afraid, injured and left to die

come what may, because he is just a sentient being, child-like, trembling

what of the joker, the trickster, the speaker of my language

smiling through self torture, a private guantanamo bay

i don’t know what happened to you before

i don’t know what they said and didn’t say

but i know today you are beautiful and worthy and precious

despite the best of your efforts

too many before have sighed with resignation

turning fear of future failure and triumph into chains

but selling freedom for quasi-comfort is not fair exchange

when there are too many fish in a pond they suffocate

but settling is giving up more than life-that’s too easy

settling is taking your essence, your all truth, your all love

settling is bottling the space between chemical reactions

and selling it in walmart as the next teen star glitter body spray



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