I speak for ones meant to expire
those put aside to be wronged
by the orders of the normative
living on the end of poles
finding comfort on the rails
while scorning those who float amidst.
There are spectrums between two ends
valid living that some disparage
by ignorance or dogma’s curse
I’ll hold the line against these foes
when they attack the frail souls
sending them to pits of Hell.
Demons whisper seductive lies
truth is twisted in funhouse mirrors
asking for what should never be
while my words strive to fight
by revelation of common ground
away from derision too often found.
We’re trapped in cages made by our brains
thinking we're all alone without refrain
from kindred souls that struggle same
into this gap I add my words
with the wounds that match their own
I speak for ones who must survive.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180221.