My right to strive for wholeness and breathe free.
It swallows all the substance I can give,
To patch the brokenness inside of me.
My imperfections live so deep within,
It seems at times they hide inside my mind,
And in a world where diff'rence is a sin,
I ache to grasp what solace I can find.
I watch my world break families apart;
I see the remnants left behind in need,
By those who value profit over heart,
Who live but to consume; who worship greed.
I forged a stout redoubt to shelter me:
A world I built inside my poetry.
I built a world where all are free to thrive,
Where no one takes your family away,
Because they fear your battle to survive,
Might cost them profits on some future day.
A world where sunlight streaming to the ground,
Might find itself upon a solar pane,
And drive a rush of energy around,
To cleanly power lights, a car, or train;
Where education and healthcare are free,
And each of us is equal under law.
Although the system works beautifully,
It seems so distant from the Keweenaw.
Yet, I feel none can ever vanquish me,
Because I live inside my poetry.
Mick McKellar
August 2018
Can we live in multiple worlds at once? Sometimes, you just need to go to a world where things work like they should.
Mick
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