poems

Moral of the Story

People look
but don't see
How I am
brave
In the face of a
never -ending tragedy.

They tell me
to stay strong
But all I can do is crumble
to dust
and disappear
Into the atmosphere.

When they tell me
what to think
what to feel
I burst
into a million fragments.

A grenade
held in the hands
of people who believe
they mean well
but don't know any better.

So when I shatter
in your grasp
don't flinch
don't flail
stand and hear me
when I tell you.

I am the author
of the words I say.
I hold my pen to the page.
I am the one
who decides
The Moral of the Story.