Object to the days rule

The judge high off in distant

Gown

Draped over the isle

Where I sit

Pretending to listen

To care

When I know that

The judge there is a facade

Of what we are supposed to feel

But I keep quiet

Keep my peace

For another day

The title was nothing more

Than a word

Meaningless in form and

Shape

So today I set out to

To learn a new title

For myself

One that I yet don’t seem to

Understand

In that darkness

I am fine

To learn

What my title will

Be

I pray

For a daily

Shelter

Away from the light

That is burning the ground

All around

I see a small whimper of

Hope

So I seek this hope

Daily

And reminds me to stay

Planted on the

Ground

Built to last

The difficult

Past

Future unknown

But what is sure

Is that survival

Will be made

Through the thinnest

Path

Forward

The vast nature

Of the world

Seems to override

My own ability

To understand

What is happening

Across the land

From ocean to ocean

The wide expanse

Is contracting

Into one confusing

Mess

ill be blithe today

with a cheerful

grin

towards the sky

above

me

so as to see the light

shower down

new

with a vision

of hope

today

and true