Notice it. . .
though you may embrace it,
at the thought of stopping
you court down dirty struggle
in the wrangling and pain
of un-pluggle,
which will strain, burn and chafe you
before you can ever
come even so close as to chafe it.

Ya gotta extract it–
though maybe in pride
you’d prefer
to flaunt it and flash it
freed from all restriction,
but, in shreds or intact–
it has just got to go,
pushed out by your love
for yourself,
and your vision and dream
of who you will be living free,
held in steady conviction.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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