My son,
who should you be?
When you look back at your image
what should you see?
Should I tell you to hunch and cower?
Make yourself lower?
Should I beg you for your silence?
To turn the other cheek?
Which cheek should you turn
when both show defiance?
Should I raise you to be a man?
When our men are killed?
Look down my son,
Don't speak,
Hide your strength
My boy
be weak.
Should I tell you to stand for nothing,
So that you may live,
fall for it all?
and know you were deceived.
YOU ARE READING
The Burning
PoetryThe funny thing about fire is that it can be both destructive and cleansing, in the wake of the ashes is fertile soil. So I have set aflame underneath me and let the passion burn, in the end, I hope to find peace and build bigger and greater things.
